Searching For The Light
by Mymumisgay
Summary: Harry Potter tries to make it in a world where everyone seems to be out to get him. He just wanted to normal, but there's nothing normal about Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1: Privet Drive

Searching For The Light

Chapter 1: Privet Drive

Short A/N: This fic is what I imagine would happen if Harry was truly developed to the maximum potential. In this fic Harry will be driven to accomplish things, amazing impossible things, but magic overcomes all odds. One of my biggest pet peeves about canon Harry is how he does so little to question things, he doesn't have any critical thinking skills imo. So if you want a strictly canon Harry, you can click away now. This is a smart!harry fic who might be out of character, so if you want a bumbling Dumbledore follower like canon, this isn't it. I haven't decided if I will do bashing, hopefully not, but I reserve the right. Some dark overtones. No pairings yet so rated T for now. I don't own Harry Potter yada yada don't sue me. Enjoy!

Number four privet drive was a quiet place. From inside the cupboard under the stairs, the only sound Harry Potter could hear was the gentle clinking of the wind chime his aunt had hung on the front porch. Harry really liked the wind chime, at night he would listen to it for hours. Harry liked to spend time thinking about all the pleasant sounds the wind chime made, and what it would be like if he rearranged one sound with another. Harry had lots of time to do this, since his uncle, Vernon Dursley, made him spend the entire day inside the cupboard.

Uncle Vernon had made it very clear to Harry many times that he was never to leave his cupboard without permission. Harry couldn't obey, since he couldn't control when he got hungry or when he had to use the bathroom. Uncle Vernon wouldn't accept this reasoning, and would get very angry when Harry disregarded this order, often getting very physical whenever he caught his nephew. As a result, Harry had learned how to be completely silent, even when moving. It was a skill that was paid for in blood, quite literally, but something strange happened whenever Harry was punished.

His uncle often got carried away punishing him, and when he was done, Harry would have to crawl back to the refuge of his cupboard. Afterwards, Harry would usually blackout from the pain, but when he woke up, he felt good as new. No matter how many bloody wounds or broken bones his uncle inflicted upon him, after a small amount of rest, it would be like it had never happened with no sign of injuries. Harry had to hide this strange ability of his to miraculously heal, he feared what his uncle would do if he caught Harry doing something unnatural. The Dursleys abhorred unnaturalness, and they punished him severely for even the smallest hint of him doing anything out of the ordinary. One time he had somehow appeared on the roof of the school. How he had done it, he had no idea. All he knew was that one minute he had been running from Dudley, and the next thing he knew, he was on the inaccessible roof. The fire department had to be called to get him down. Harry hadn't been allowed out of his cupboard for weeks.

A small beep broke the quiet stillness of the night. Harry looked to his wrist and checked the small scuffed watch he had taken from his cousin Dudley. His cousin hadn't liked it since it was too hard to read for him, and had thrown it out as soon as he thought nobody was looking. Harry though, could read the watch, and had been fascinated by all the small moving gears that were visible on the face of the watch. Harry had to angle his watch just right to catch the small beam of moonlight that shined under the door.

It was midnight, August 2nd, 1985. Today was his fifth birthday and Harry was very excited. Now, he was officially old enough to become a member of the British Library, and that meant he could finally check out books. Harry had long ago read every book in the school library, but since the library was one of the safest places in school from Dudley and his gang, Harry had read through them all twice and committed them to memory. It was lucky that the school Harry attended shared a campus with the University of Surrey. At first it had been hard understanding some of the bigger books, but once he expanded his vocabulary, he understood the new big words. And once he understood what he was reading, the comprehension flowed easily.

Harry remembered at first he had gotten quite a few strange looks as a four year old, carrying around books that were bigger than his head. It was made worse by the fact that Harry wasn't a normal looking four-year-old either, in fact, he was very eye-catching in appearance.

Harry had long ruby red hair that seemed to flicker like fire in the light, and swayed as if in a small breeze constantly, even inside. His red hair contrasted sharply with his ghostly pale face, which was shaped with smooth angles that seemed to draw people into his emerald green eyes. His bright green eyes shined with an aura of perceptiveness out of place for someone his age. Harry was of a lithe build, and he moved with an elegant grace, never making a sound when he moved, seeming to float like he was walking on a cushion of air. All in all, Harry was a beautiful child, an otherworldly, unnaturally beautiful child.

Harry knew he wasn't normal looking, his Aunt Petunia liked to remind him very frequently, often saying that he looked just like his "good for nothing freak mother." So it was no surprise to him that it proved impossible to just read in peace like he had initially planned. One of the older students had been so intrigued by the spectacle of a small child reading big adult books that she had come up to him to talk. The blonde girl had come up to him and said "Hey there little guy, aren't you a tad young to be reading advanced anatomy textbooks?" Well Harry had been expecting a question like this, so he had an answer prepared before she had even opened her mouth. "Aren't you a tad old to have nothing better to do then bother me?" he quickly retorted. Rather than scare the blonde off like he had been hoping, she seemed delighted at the witty reply, and promptly launched into a wholly unwelcome banter session with Harry.

From then on, Sofia - as he had learned her name was - would always join him in the library when he was reading, sometimes bringing along her friends who would fawn and coo over him. One time Sofia had been going on and on complaining about one particular problem in her physics class that she just couldn't understand. Harry just wanting to have some quiet, had slammed the book he was reading down, and walked over to explain and solve the problem in such a way that he made it seem like a toddler could do it. He barely noticed her wide eyes or her jaw drop, but the ensuing silence was welcome.

After that, Sofia would constantly ask him questions about the classes she was taking, and Harry answered the best he could. Their friendship deepened immensely, and Sofia noticing how little he ate, had started to bring him lunch to eat with her. Sofia had turned into something of an older sister figure to Harry. She drove him home sometimes since she lived close by to him. Sofia had even given him a prepaid bus card for Christmas, and Harry had ditched school one day to go to the British Library. Harry couldn't take anything out since he was too young. The old librarian at the counter couldn't be convinced when Harry had tried to argue with him. It didn't matter though, Harry had given Sofia a huge hug the next time he saw her, much to her delight. To harry, it was the best gift he ever got. Harry didn't often outwardly express what he truly felt, instead pretending to be annoyed with her constant presence, but inside he was deeply grateful for the company Sofia provided.

None of the other children his age would talk with him because of the sway Dudley held over them. They were all afraid of Dudley, so they all pretended like Harry didn't exist, which made school very lonely. When he wasn't in the library studying with Sofia, he spent his time in the music room.

The music teacher, Mrs. Grubb, said he was a natural musician. She said he was talented with every instrument in the music classroom, but Harry's favorite was the old harp that had gathered dust in the storeroom. Mrs. Grubb told him that she usually didn't let students play it since the instrument was her grandmother's, but she made an exception for Harry. Harry was glad she did, since the harp filled him with an inner peace nothing else could give him. Whenever he was feeling particularly sad or lonely, he would pour his feelings into the strings, producing haunting tunes.

That was all last year, and this year Sofia was graduating and Harry was worried about what life would be like without her. Sofia had provided him protection from Dudley, since they didn't want to mess with adults. With her gone, he would lose his protection, his only reliable source of food, and most importantly, his only friend.

Harry continued thinking it over until the sun started to peak under the door. Eventually, he decided there was nothing he could do, so he put it out of his mind. He turned over on the thin mattress and flicked a spider off his leg, before drifting to sleep. His last thoughts on the contradiction of feeling excited and afraid at the same time.

A/N: Hi please review! I'll only continue if there's really an interest


	2. Chapter 2: The Monster

Chapter 2: The Monster

Boom! Harry woke with a start. A powerful explosion had woken him from his sleep. It sounded like a bomb had gone off outside. Harry quickly checked his watch and saw it was only three in the morning. He deliberated for a few seconds before deciding there was no way he was going to be able to fall asleep again after that scare. With practiced hands he slipped a bobby pin out of his long fiery red hair, and began to methodically pick the many locks on the cupboard door. Harry kept lock picks on his person out of necessity, but he also kept his hair pinned up to avoid any accidents. People seemed to go funny in the head when he let his hair hang loose, tripping over themselves and walking into walls staring at him. Harry would've found it unsettling, but he mostly avoided any problems by keeping his hair neatly pinned back. A soft click signaled that he had finally gotten the door open. He was normally much faster, but Harry was still groggy from his early wake up. Very slowly, he pried the door open, and padded down the hall to the kitchen, quiet as a mouse.

Harry didn't turn on any lights as he moved around the kitchen making himself a sandwich. He had done this so many times, that he could do this in his sleep, luckily, he wasn't a sleepwalker. Harry wasn't worried about his relatives waking either, they were such deep sleepers that they could've slept through an earthquake not feeling a thing. Five minutes later he had a bagged salami sandwich in his pocket and was out the door.

Harry's earlier guess of a bomb exploding wasn't too far off the mark. Uncle Vernon's brand new company car was a smoking mess, lying beneath a fallen utility pole. Harry shivered as he moved a bit closer to examine the wreck. It was freezing cold in late November, and his faded sneakers slipped a little on a patch of black ice. Dudley's ill fitting hand me downs provided little warmth, and Harry's teeth started to chatter when a frigid gust of wind blew past, chilling him to the bone.

The smoking car made an eerie scene in the darkness as he approached. The sun wouldn't be coming up for a few hours, and the sparking power lines combined with the smoking engine cast ominous flickering shadows in shifting directions. Harry couldn't explain why, but he was absolutely spellbound by the wafting smoke, and he didn't realize how long he had been staring until a high pitched howl broke him from his trance.

He spun around quickly and peered down the street, the full moon was bright tonight, but there was nothing out of ordinary in sight that Harry could see. He instinctively took a step toward number four before stopping. No he was being ridiculous, Harry reasoned with himself. That had sounded like a wolf howl, and Harry knew for a fact that wolves were extinct in England. Besides, it had sounded like it was miles away, even if a wolf had somehow gotten loose from the zoo or something, it wouldn't be Harry's problem. It was probably just a stray dog. Satisfied with his logic, Harry put it from his mind and started down the road to school, if he was lucky, the school custodian would let him inside early.

Harry had only walked a couple blocks when he heard another howl. This time, there was no mistaking it, it was definitely a wolf of some kind. No dog sounded so predatory. Worse, it sounded like it was much closer than the last time, definitely not miles away. Feeling a little paranoid, Harry quickened his pace to a light jog.

Harry rounded the final bend, and saw the school come into view in the distance. Harry let loose a sigh of relief he didn't know he had been holding. It had somehow gotten even colder in the last half hour, strong winds almost lifting him from his feet, all Harry wanted right now was to get inside where it was warm. Harry was just wondering if he could convince the custodian to get him a steaming cuppa when something crashed into him, sending his small frame somersaulting in the air before he crashed head first into a tree. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Harry was familiar with being thrown into solid objects, and he quickly righted himself. Harry's vision was still spinning when he got to his feet, but his ears were working fine. A deafening roar that seemed to rattle his bones almost made him wish they weren't. When Harry finally managed to focus his eyes, he was met with a terrifying sight.

A huge hairy man, no wolf, no man, - a wolf man monster - stood just a few feet from Harry, and the bloodthirsty look in the monster's eyes was something out of a nightmare. It was easily ten feet tall, and had claws as long as Harry's arm, and teeth that looked as sharp as the huge kitchen knives Harry sometimes saw his aunt use. Harry's mind raced at lightning speed, but he quickly realized that he had no idea what to do, and that he had no way to defend himself, that left him with only one option. Harry ran.

Harry wasn't slow by any means. In fact, he would even say he was the fastest person he knew, regularly outrunning Dudley and his little gang. But this monster moved with an absurd speed that was so fast, he seemed to blur from one spot to another, impossible to focus on. Harry had sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him, but he hadn't gotten more than a few hundred feet before he found himself pinned to the road underneath the monster. Harry thrashed, kicked and screamed, but it was no good, he might as well have tried to move a brick wall.

Eventually he gave up, waiting tensely for the pain he was sure to come. Harry wasn't afraid to die. Sometimes when he was on the verge of unconsciousness after a particularly bad punishment, he wished for just that. For an escape from the pain, an escape from the misery that seemed to pervade every facet of his life. And maybe secretly, a chance to see his parents again. Not because he missed them, he hadn't known them, but for a chance to ask why. Why his father was so reckless as to drink and drive. Why his mother thought her sister would be a good caretaker. Most importantly, why hadn't they loved him enough not to go and get themselves killed, abandoning him to the tender care of his relatives.

The only thing in the world he was reluctant about leaving was Sofia. His death would surely make her sad. She would understand though, she would hate it, but she would understand why he didn't fight more. He had let slip enough that she knew he didn't have a good home life, and she wouldn't think less of him. She would still be his friend. And that thought filled him with a strange feeling.

It was an indescribable feeling. A feeling that only someone who was searching for the light in endless nights could understand. But to Harry, it was the best feeling in the world.

He didn't realize when he had started laughing, but Harry couldn't help it. He should've been scared out of his mind, but right at that moment, all he knew was that he felt good, and he didn't want the feeling to stop. Harry opened his eyes, still laughing, to look up at the monster. It was difficult to tell what it was thinking, who knew if it even could think beyond primal instincts, but where as before it seemed ready to lunge at him, now it had paused. Harry had a surreal moment where he thought if he was a monster, he would be confused by his strange reaction as well.

Eventually, Harry had stopped laughing, and once that happened, the monster seemed to shake off it's hesitation. It let loose another howl, except this time it seemed to be a different sound than before. This was a howl of victory, and of a successful hunt. It turned back to Harry, but just before the monster could maul him, something crashed into it, throwing the beast off and crashing into a nearby alley. Harry looked up and for the second time that night saw a smoking car. He tried to get to his feet, but before he could, the car door was thrown open and someone jumped on top of him, sending him crashing to the ground once more. He was really getting sick of ending up on the ground this way, but at least his head was spared this time.

"Oh my god! What have I done? I've killed a kid! I'm a murderer! Oh god," A familiar blonde girl had pinned him to the ground. Harry tried to tell her he was fine, but she didn't seem to be able to hear him, just continuing to sob, slowly becoming more and more hysterical. Having had enough drama for a lifetime in a night already, he elbowed her in the face to get her off of him. It worked, and she yelped before rolling off of him, clutching her nose. "Really Sofia, I'm fine. I won't die that easily," He conveniently ignored how ironic his words were. She laughed and hugged him tightly, babbling about how happy she was that he was alright. It was a nice hug, but Harry didn't want to spend any more time in this place. He looked over her shoulder into the alley where the monster had been thrown, but it wasn't there.

Feeling overwhelmed by his near death experience, he gently pushed Sofia away. He tried to stop the tears, but he was only partially successful, not being able to stop the sniffles. Sofia noticed this, and seemed to look at him for the first time. "Oh my god you're bleeding! We have to get you to the hospital!" It was true, he could feel the blood flowing down his eyebrow onto his cheek. There was a bad gash on his forehead from where he had been thrown into the tree, but he was sure he would be okay after a few hours rest. It was far from one of the worst injuries he had ever gotten.

"I'm fine! Really! I just need some rest and something warm to drink!" Sofia didn't seem to believe him, and wouldn't listen to his protests as she dragged him into her car and roughly pushed him into the passenger seat. "My pretty arse you're fine! You got hit by a car! You're going to the hospital and you're going to see a doctor. My mum would have my hide. Run a kid over and don't even bother helping him. I mean really! What do you take me for? What are you even doing out this early anyway? I'm coming back from a night class, but I'm pretty sure you weren't!" She gave him a look that demanded explanation, but he just crossed his arms and muttered petulantly "tell you later." Sofia harrumphed and shut his door.

A moment later, Sofia entered the driver's side and put the key in the ignition. She turned the key, but the engine stalled. "Cmon Cherry, just to the hospital and then we'll go straight to the shop. I swear I'll getchya the greatest paint job ever! Cmon start!" She turned the key again, and somehow, the car started. A few minutes later they were speeding down the road. "So you going to tell me what you were doing out in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night or what?" she asked.

Harry thought about lying, but quickly discarded the idea. Sofia had never lied to him, the least he could do was reciprocate that. "Well, my uncle's car exploded after getting hit by a fallen power line, and I couldn't fall asleep after that. So I decided to walk to school early," he explained. She gave him a queer look. "That explains why you were there when you were, but not why you were in the middle of the road. I know you Harry. You're anything but clumsy, it's not like you to just stumble off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic." Harry cursed silently. He should've known she would see right through his flimsy excuse. Harry wasn't the only smart person around, Sofia showed that better than anyone. But he didn't want to just outright say he saw a monster. She would probably either think he was lying, or that he was a scared child in shock, making up stories to cope with trauma.

"Well… I saw something strange, it startled me into the road," he began. Harry was already patting himself on the back for his ingenious half truth. That technically he was chased through the streets by a monster, before being forced onto the pavement was something he planned on strategically omitting. Sofia gave him a big belly laugh. "It must have been something very strange indeed to perturb the great Harry Potter enough to get him run over," she teased. Harry hesitated for a moment before coming to a decision. If she didn't believe him, nobody would. "It might sound hard to believe, but I saw a monster." He had started off with a confident voice, but by the time he finished the sentence, it was no more than a whisper.

Sofia cursed, and the car swerved in and out of the lane for a moment. Then she gave him a penetrating look. "What kind of monster?" she asked in a serious voice that he had never heard her use before. Harry looked over and saw that Sofia was completely genuine, not a trace of disbelief on her face. "You mean, you believe me?" He asked in a small, vulnerable voice. Her expression softened, before she gave him a big reassuring smile. "Of course silly. Why wouldn't I believe you? You've never lied to me right?" Harry quickly nodded confirmation, he would never do that to her. "See? You're only five years old Harry, but you're already more mature than half the guys I know. You're a good friend Harry, maybe even my best friend, and I…"she paused before swallowing, then her expression changed again to one of steely determination. "Look Harry there are some things I know about you that you yourself don't know. You've been nothing but honest to me, and I feel really guilty about holding stuff back from you… Harry you're a," but before she could continue Harry noticed they were on a collision course for something in the road. "Look out!" He yelled interrupting her. But it was too late, Harry saw it was the monster that had attacked him earlier, and just before they crashed he noticed it had a strange glazed look on it's face. A moment later, Harry's head snapped back, and he blacked out.

A/N: Hi all! Hope this Chapter wasn't too intense or suspenseful. I just thought the story needed a little action to spice things up. If you don't want me to leave this here on a cliffhanger, please review! That's right I've resorted to blackmailing my readers to review! Begging doesn't seem to work, maybe threatening will? Be a good reader and leave me a review, it helps me stay motivated to keep writing. Otherwise I just feel like I'm writing to a brick wall... So review... OR ELSE! MUAHAHAHAHAHA


	3. Chapter 3: The Hospital

Chapter 3: The Hospital

A/N: Shoutout to user magitech for the review. Thank you for pointing out that Harry lives at number four privet drive, not number twelve. I assure you I knew this, but somehow, it didn't come out in my writing. I have fixed it, and it will not happen again. As to your other points, I am still undecided about Harry's schooling. And like I said in the first chapter, pairings are undecided as well. To the anonymous reviewer who reported me to fanfiction admins for my profile picture, please stuff a sock in it. I appreciate constructive criticism, but if someone has an issue with me, trying to get me banned is not the way to go about it. Please DM me. That said, let's continue the story.

Harry slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was somewhere warm, and he was lying on something soft and wet. Opening his eyes, Harry sat up and looked around, but he didn't immediately recognize where he was. Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes a few times before he realized he was lying on the ground, in the middle of a grass covered valley. Harry had been here once on a school field trip. He had had great fun, and really enjoyed rolling down the hillsides and swimming in the river that bisected the valley. Now though, there was something different about the place. Frustratingly, no matter how he tried, he just couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was. Harry tried to think about how he got here, but his mind seemed jumbled, it wasn't quite like a headache, but he seemed unable to focus on anything.

"Harry" he heard a familiar voice call. It was a voice that he had only ever heard in his dreams. A voice that could only mean one thing. Hesitantly, and with the utmost reluctance, he turned around and saw something that made his blood run cold. There standing on the other side of the river, was a woman who could only be his mother.

She had the same fiery red hair as him, except hers was loose and seemed to be shimmering in a wind that didn't exist. She had the same shining green emerald eyes, but hers were currently wet with tears. She looked so similar that if if it wasn't for her obviously feminine body, Harry would almost have thought he was looking in a mirror. The only other difference between them was the flawless, unscarred skin on her forehead.

"My sweet sweet boy, I am so so sorry Harry." Harry wanted to be angry, he wanted to yell and scream at her about how she had abandoned him. But looking at his mother crying, Harry just couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead, he ran towards her. "Harry stop!" she yelled just before he reached her. Harry halted just on the other side of the rushing river. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but he obeyed. His mother had never asked anything of him before, he couldn't just say no. "Harry listen to me, we don't have much time. But no matter what happens, just remember that I always have, and still do, love you immensely." Harry had never wanted to do anything so badly as to cross the river and throw himself into her arms.

Tears formed in his eyes, but unlike so many times before, he didn't try to stop them, instead letting them flow freely. "Am.. am I d-dead?" he asked in a stuttering voice. Harry's mother gave him a sad smile. "Yes, and no. You aren't fully alive right now, but you aren't dead either. You're in between worlds right now Harry, and you must make a choice. One that I cannot help you with." He understood what she was trying to say without saying it, and to Harry, it seemed like a no-brainer, so he took a step into the river. When some of the water splashed onto his face, it was like a veil had been lifted from eyes, and he finally realized what was different about this place from the last time he had been here.

Instead of lush green rolling meadows like he had seen a few seconds prior, there was endless pure white desert. The sky was inky black with not a single star visible, but strangely, that didn't make it dark out. When Harry looked down, he saw to his horror that the river wasn't made of water, but out of blood, and just in front of his feet was a monstrous looking baby that was making disgusting noises. Harry reflexively took a step back out of the river, and to his ever growing confusion, everything changed back to the way it was when he had arrived. "What.. what was that?" he asked in a trembling voice. "Harry, I'm not allowed to say, but please don't make this any harder than it has to be. Now is not your time, and you know where you are needed most. I wish I could say more, but you need to go. I am so proud of you Harry, never forget that." Suddenly, Harry felt a tremendous force pulling him backward, he tried to fight it, but it was too strong. He was flung backwards in the air, and for a long time he felt like he was falling at a very high speed before he slammed into something, blackness taking him once more.

Beep...beep...beep. Harry opened his eyes, and immediately closed them again from the bright light shining in his face. He hurt all over, but his neck was especially sore, and he made a slight moan from the pain. CRASH! Something metallic fell to the ground with a resounding clang. Harry opened his eyes again, and looked over to the source of the noise. There was a nurse of some sort staring at him in absolute shock. Her jaw was slack, and her eyes were wide and dilated. Harry, being used to this sort of reaction, ignored her and looked around the room he was in. Harry guessed that he was in some hospital room judging from all the machines making weird noises he was hooked up to. There were all sorts of wires criss crossing his body, and when he tried to sit up, he found they painfully tugged on his skin. "Do you think you could help me out?" he asked the nurse, but she didn't respond, not seeming to hear his question.

"Nurse Jennie! That better not be you in there! Didn't I make it clear only authorized personnel were allowed?" Harry looked to the nurse's name tag, and sure enough, it read _Registered_ _Nurse_ _Jennie_. Nurse Jennie still didn't seem to be able to hear anything, and it wasn't until an angry looking doctor with a face mask came in and poked her hard in the side that she snapped out of it. "Doctor Goldstein! I'm so sorry! It's just that the patient is awake, and I was caught off guard! I was just replacing the bed pan." Doctor Goldstein, as he was apparently called, had a clearly disbelieving look on his face before he turned to Harry. Harry gave a shy nod, and the doctor's face transformed to a look of shock like the one that had been on the nurses face. Only for a second though, because a moment later, he lept into action.

"Nurse Jennie, please leave immediately, and set up isolation protocol. Nobody is to enter or exit without my express permission. Understood?" The nurse nodded and left, but not without a backward glance toward harry. Moments later, it was just the doctor and Harry. Harry feeling quite antsy asked "Do you think you could take these wires out from me sir?" The doctor smiled kindly before pulling a chair up to Harry's bedside, then taking out a notepad and pen. "Perhaps soon, but first there are a few things we need to know before we can do anything." Harry nodded his ascent, so the doctor continued. "Well first, we need your name. You and one other patient in this ward were rescued from a car crash nine months ago. Both of you have been in a coma ever since, but you were in particularly bad condition when you arrived here. Indeed, you were legally dead for many hours, and it took many resuscitation attempts to bring you back to the land of the living."

Harry stared at the man. He had been dead? He vaguely recalled the monster attacking him, the crash, and then, and then… nothing. He really thought hard, and he thought he might remember feeling very sad, and yet very happy about something. Then he woke up here. The doctor must have noticed his expression, because he continued. "I suppose you're feeling disoriented, and that's perfectly normal after being comatose in bed for months. We can help you, but we need to know your name first so your parents can be contacted." Harry looked sharply at the man, was he making fun of him? Surely he knew who he was? Everyone always seemed to know him, even people he had never met before seemed to know his name, it was strange to be unrecognized. The only person who had ever had the courtesy to ask his name before was Sofia, and that brought another realization crashing home.

"Sofia! She was driving when we crashed! Where is she? Is she okay?" he asked in a panic. He started to struggle to get some of the cords out of his body, and ripped one out, leaving a bloody tear on his arm. The doctor called for assistance, and the nurse came shuffling back in, and within minutes, Harry was further restrained with his arms and body strapped down. "I can assure you young lad, the other person who was rescued from the crash, Sofia you called her? Is perfectly fine. Although, she is still in a coma and has shown no signs of waking, unlike yourself. Now young lad, I really must insist you give me your name, I shall have to sedate you otherwise if you prove unable to remain calm." Harry, seeing no alternative, calmed himself before tentatively replying "My name is Harry Potter, and my parents are dead." He briefly thought about mentioning the Dursleys, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. The longer he could avoid them, the better. Besides, they were probably celebrating finally being rid of him. Harry seriously doubted they missed him.

The doctor turned his back on Harry and started to search through one of the cabinets on the wall. "An orphan? I suppose you're a ward of the state then, yes that makes sense. If you had guardians they would surely have inquired about you already." The doctor gave a long put upon sigh of someone who was overworked. "We will have to contact social services then. I swear if I had known about all this paperwork in med-school, I would have just become a jeweler like my father." The doctor muttered the last part, but Harry ignored him, and he didn't bother to correct him either. The doctor didn't ask for confirmation, so Harry didn't feel guilty about the doctor's assumption. Finally, the doctor seemed to find what he was looking for, and returned to Harry's bedside with some bandages. He reached for Harry's arm, but the bloody tear that had formed from him ripping out a wire was already gone, with nothing but flawless skin visible. The doctor gave him an intense look and examined him once more. He alternatively stared between Harry's healed arm, and his shimmering red hair. After a few minutes, he seemed to come to an epiphany, and said in almost a whisper "You're one of them, aren't you?" Harry had no idea what he meant, so he just gave him a confused look.

Doctor Goldstein again stared into his eyes, seemingly looking for some sign of deceit on Harry's part. Seeing none, he dropped back into the chair by Harry's bedside and gave another heavy sigh. "I don't know if I'm the right person to tell you, but you being an orphan, I suppose it's possible nobody ever mentioned it to you. It would be cruel to let you continue to be ignorant. Yes, you must be informed." The doctor again stared straight into Harry's eyes. "Did you ever do something strange Mr. Potter? Something that you couldn't explain? Something unnatural?" Harry hesitated. He wasn't supposed to talk about this, Vernon would punish him greatly, even for something small like not immediately replying negatively to such a question. But Vernon wasn't here right now, it was just Harry and the doctor in the room, the nurse having left a while ago after restraining him. Harry looked back to the doctor and gave a small nod.

The doctor gave him a big smile. "I thought so, my wife and son are just like you. Anthony, he's about your age. Little rascal is always disappearing my work badge, given me something of reputation around here for not being the most organized person. Security keeps an extra box full of 'em just for me." He smiled and seemed to lose himself in a memory for a second before refocusing on Harry. "Mr. Potter, there's no easy way to say this, but... you're a wizard."

A/N: Hi again! Little bit shorter chapter that might seem pointless, but I swear this chapter is important for character development! I always say quality over quantity. Please be a kind soul and leave this poor writer me a review!


	4. Chapter 4: Magic

Chapter 4: Magic

Harry blinked, and then blinked again. He had almost denied it outright, but then stopped and thought about it. What was a wizard? From what little fiction he had read, it was someone who could do magic, someone who could do things that were impossible. Could Harry do impossible things? Yes, absolutely. There was no doubt about it, the very fact that he was alive should have been impossible, yet here he was, still breathing. But there were still a few things that didn't add up.

"How do you know that I'm a.. Wizard?" he asked in a skeptical voice. Even if it did explain a lot of the things that had happened to him, it was still far-fetched. Harry wouldn't accept something so outrageous without at least some evidence to back it up. He really hoped Doctor Goldstein wasn't making this up, but it sounded too good to be true. The doctor seemed pleased by his question "Ah, very good Mr. Potter. Never accept anything you're told at face value, no matter who it is. I have some regular patients who would cut off their right arm if I told them it was good for them. Never be afraid to ask questions. Remember that and you'll go far." Doctor Goldstein lapsed into silence and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"How do I know you're a wizard? Well, to be perfectly honest, I don't know, I only suspect. You see, unlike my lovely wife, I am in no way magical. Therefore, I have no way to verify my suspicions." Harry nodded, this was all logical, and made perfect sense, but Harry couldn't help but notice that the man dodged the question. It reminded him of the way his teachers often spoke to him whenever he asked an off topic question. They either wouldn't answer directly, or they would kick him out of class. Harry had been sent to the headmaster's office for disrupting class more times than he could count, but Harry didn't really care. If he had felt so inclined, he could have simply done the work he was assigned quietly, and made all his teachers happy the process. But the work he was assigned was always so easy, never taking more than a few glances to solve in his head. Consequently, Harry was almost always bored in class.

The school nurse had said he had an attention problem, and she was partly right. Harry didn't pay attention in class, he didn't listen to his teachers, and he didn't do his work. But it wasn't because it was hard for him. Harry chose not to pay attention because he found other things far more fascinating. One thing Harry really enjoyed doing was listening to the pretty songbirds outside the classroom window. When he did, Harry would tune out everything else so he could focus on the ballad of the birds. He would write down the sequence of their warbles, and the timbre of their trills on the fringes of his school work. During Mrs. Grubb's music class, he would play his notes on the harp, creating dazzling melodies. Mrs. Grubb loved his songs, and raved about his musical brilliance to the other teachers, but they didn't seem to agree with her. Mrs. Grubb was the only member of staff who had good things to say about Harry. Harry's other teachers would send home angry letters complaining about how disruptive he was, and about how he never did his work, only doodling when he should have been listening.

The Dursleys never came to parent teacher conferences, so Harry would just throw the letters out. It didn't matter, even if Vernon found out and had punished him for it, Harry wouldn't have changed his behavior. He wasn't allowed to watch the telly like Dudley, so he entertained himself in other ways. His school teachers squirming when he asked them questions several times above their pay grade was very fun, even if it did get him kicked from class more often than not, and even if they almost never answered. Harry had become quite adept at spotting deflections, and he could tell when someone was trying to avoid a question. Harry had tried to force their hand a few times, but much to his chagrin, accusing teachers of being government appointed jobbernowls didn't seem to go over well.

But this wasn't school, and it wasn't something as trivial as wanting to entertain himself. This was potentially life changing, so he wasn't going to let Doctor Goldstein get away with deflecting his questions. Harry sat up as much as could without it being painful and gave the doctor an indignant look. "I know I'm only a little kid doctor, but I'm not stupid. Suspicions are based on observations. You can't just say something like that and then refuse to explain! Now I want to know what you saw that led you to to have the suspicion that I'm a wizard!" He was practically yelling at the end, and he was shaking in rage. Harry knew he was being irrationally angry, but when he tried to calm down, he snapped. Why should he calm down? He was right! He couldn't take it anymore! All of the unfairness of how he was treated on almost a daily basis, the pain of dying and waking up in more pain, all of his bad feelings he had been holding in for months, he vented into his rage. Harry was so consumed with rage, he didn't even feel the room start to shake.

Harry didn't give the doctor a chance to speak. He would probably admonish him for his disrespect like every other adult had when Harry had said what he truly felt. Harry didn't want to spend another second here, he wanted to get as far away from all the double-speaking adults as possible right now, but he had to see someone first. Still furious, he ripped out all of the wires from his body, not caring for the blood that splashed onto the floor or the stinging pain. He only distantly noticed the wounds healing quicker then they formed, and marched past the stunned doctor who seemed frozen to the spot.

Harry somehow intuitively knew where to go, and he marched down the hallways and twisted around corners with purpose. The shaking building, the flickering lights, and the dust falling from the ceiling with his every step were the furthest things from his mind as he let his instincts take over. A few people tried to stop him, but he just looked at them and they backed off. His normally gently shining emerald green eyes were a pair of blazing green infernos, and his fiery ruby red hair fluttered in unseen winds in a way that defied gravity. He looked like a force of nature that you did not want to get in the way of, so he was left alone. When Harry finally reached the place where his feet had been guiding him, he stopped just as his hand reached for the door handle. What was he doing? He had just lost all self-control and stormed out of his hospital room. He shouldn't even be on his feet, yet he was about to barge into someone else's room without invitation. He wasn't even sure this was the right room, he had just followed his instincts. "Well, in for a penny, in for a pound." He muttered, and turned the handle and unceremoniously walked into the room.

Sofia was lying there on her hospital bed, and she looked terrible. She was as pretty as ever with her long blonde hair and cute button nose, but she had more than double the amount of wires and tubes all over her body than harry did when he had woken up. Harry walked over to her and took her hand. She didn't rouse, and didn't make even the slightest sign she was aware of his presence. It was like a physical blow to Harry, and he felt all of his anger vanish like smoke in the wind. He knew Doctor Goldstein had said she hadn't shown any signs of waking, but he had thought, perhaps naively, that she would wake when he came to see her. Looking at her now though, it was obvious she wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

She had a mask over her face that seemed to be helping her breathe, and it made a whooshing sound when she exhaled. Her arms were riddled with plastic tubes and different colors of medical tape. "Sofia, can you hear me?" he asked anyway, hoping for a miracle, but she didn't respond. He pleaded, demanded and begged her to say something, do anything, but she wouldn't stir. Suddenly Harry found himself alone in the world once more, and he broke down crying in the corner.

He didn't know how long he had sat there on the floor shedding tears, but eventually, someone had reached down and pulled him up into a hug. He didn't know who it was, but he was grateful for the gesture and clung on to the person like a lifeline.

After a long while, he had finally finished crying and looked up through bleary eyes to see whose chest his face had been buried in. It was a brunette woman, and she had kind chocolate hazel eyes framed by red and black glasses. Harry opened his mouth to ask who she was, but she put a finger to his lips. "Hush" she said in a soothing voice. "You've worried Alex sick, and you need to rest. There's nothing you can do for her. Come along." Harry might've normally objected to being dragged along like a toddler, but he was exhausted, so he didn't put up a fight as he was led from the room. A little while later, the kind woman laid him back on his hospital bed and tucked him under the blankets. Harry again tried to ask her name, but he was shushed once more. "Not a word. There'll be plenty of time for talk in the morning. For now sleep." Harry didn't like it, but he was just too tired to fight her. He felt drained after everything he had been through that day, so he closed his eyes and drifted off to the land of Morpheus.

Harry woke up the next day feeling refreshed. Scratch that, he felt amazing, better than amazing. Harry felt better than he had ever felt in his life. Everything in his body felt like it was working better and faster. Harry's mind too, felt focused and lightning quick. He had never had trouble concentrating, but he had always felt a little sluggish mentally, like something had been making him think twice as hard for everything. Now his head was clear, and things that he used to need to have pencil and paper to work out were effortlessly thought through and solved in the blink of an eye. Harry's eyes were better too now, and he had pinch himself to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. Everything was sharper and so much more clear. When he got up out of bed and looked out the window, he gasped in amazement and stared. Who knew the world was so beautiful? He could see everything from the street signs all the way at the end of avenue, to the small lines on the petals of the flowers on the windowsill.

"See something interesting?" A voice asked behind him, startling him so badly he nearly tripped. Nearly, but his already amazing sense of balance seemed to have vastly improved overnight. So instead of face planting, he did what looked like a small dance and twirled around to face his ambush. It was Doctor Goldstein, and he laughed gaily at Harry's dance. But unlike all the other times Harry had seen him, he wasn't in a long white coat, and he wasn't wearing a face mask. The doctor was dressed in strange colorful flowing robes and knee length leather boots made of material Harry had never seen before. "Sorry if I startled you Harry, but we have to get going soon. Feeling better I hope?" Harry had several questions, like why he had been called Harry and not Mr. Potter like before, or why he was dressed with such strange clothes. But Harry felt guilty from blowing up at the doctor yesterday, so he instead asked "Where are we going? And shouldn't you make sure I'm healthy enough to leave the hospital?" The doctor looked slightly guilty, and after a few seconds let loose a big sigh. "I was going to do that this morning before you got out of bed, but these damn robes are so hard to put on." Another sigh. "Ah well. Viola is not going to be happy. But when you're right you're right. Come sit on this bench while I get your blood pressure. Have you ever thought about being a doctor yourself Harry?"

Harry shrugged as the doctor put a plastic cuff on his arm and started to press buttons on a machine. "I don't know, could a doctor wake up Sofia?" Doctor Goldstein didn't reply at first, and pressed one more button. The plastic cuff started to tighten until Harry could feel his arm pulsing from the restriction. "Sofia, is that the girl who you unofficially visited last night? Do you know her full name, or family we can contact? Like yourself, nobody has inquired about her welfare, and we have no records of her." Harry looked at him strangely as the cuff gradually started to loosen. "Her name is Sofia Shafiq, and I don't know any of her family. But what do you mean unofficially?" The doctor again didn't reply immediately, and took the cuff off when the machine started to beep.

"Blood pressure is normal. Open wide." Harry opened his mouth, and the doctor stuck a thermometer under his tongue. "What I mean by unofficially, is that it didn't happen, wink wink. My wife, the kind lady who brought you back here last night, and her colleagues, made the whole thing as if it never happened." Harry still didn't understand, but he couldn't say that since his mouth was busy getting its temperature taken. "And to answer your original question, no. No doctor could help Sofia right now. She wasn't wearing a seat belt like you were in the crash, and she was ejected from the vehicle through the windshield." Harry winced, that didn't sound good, and he dreaded what the doctor would tell him next.

The doctor continued like nothing had happened. "Rescuers found her body over a hundred feet from the wreck. She's lucky to be alive, but with the current level of medicine, she may never wake up." Harry choked, and thankfully a few seconds later the thermometer beeped, leaving his mouth empty once more. Harry spluttered and wheezed gasping for breath. The doctor patted him on the back "Temperature normal. No aches, pains, problems seeing or hearing? Hearing voices?" Harry shook his head as he caught his breathe and then gave the doctor a defiant angry look. "No, no, no, no and no, I feel great. And don't talk that way! I don't care what the level of medicine is! I'll make a new medicine myself if I have to, but Sofia will wake up!"

Before the doctor could respond, a third voice made both of them jump and whirl around. "My my Alex, already recruiting Harry to the medical field? Prospects must be slim for you to consider someone his age." It was the brunette from the night before, wearing similar robes to the doctor. But hers were cut differently, much more sleek looking in appearance and tighter around the chest and waist. She walked over to Doctor Goldstein and gave him a long wet kiss smack on the lips. Harry looked away and gagged, but the doctor - Alex - seemed to have the opposite reaction and started stuttering. "V..Viola! I would never, I was just…" but he trailed off as she burst out laughing. "Relax Alex! Just teasing." she gave him another kiss, and Alex went red in the face, but he strangely seemed pleased.

Mrs. Goldstein - Viola - walked over to Harry and kneeled down so she was eye level. "Has my wonderful husband told you that we were taking you to the ministry today to adopt you?" she asked. Harry jaw fell open. He was shocked. Adopt? Oh how he wanted it to be true, but it wasn't possible! The Dursleys would surely object! Mrs. Goldstein looked over at her husband and gave him a stern look. "Too busy recruiting maybe? Must have slipped his mind no doubt, no matter, he and I will be having words later" she finished ominously, and Dr. Goldstein gulped audibly.

"But you can't! The Dursleys won't let you!" Mrs. Goldstein gave another sharp look at Dr. Goldstein. "Who are the Dursleys? Surely not your guardians? My husband told me nobody has visited you at all in the nine months you've been here." Harry just nodded and said "He's right, but Aunt Petunia is my mother's sister. I've lived with her family since my parents died." Mrs. Goldstein looked over at her husband with fury in her eyes "Oh you are in so much trouble Alex! Why didn't you tell me?" she hissed, and the doctor actually took a step back. She turned back to Harry and had a disappointed look on her face. "Well then Harry, I guess we will take you back to them then if.." But Harry interrupted. "No, please!" and Mrs. Goldstein looked at him in amazement, so Harry looked down at his feet. "I don't want to go back, I'd much rather stay at the hospital. Please don't make me go back, they've probably already told everyone I'm dead or something, so they wouldn't even let me come back if I wanted."

Viola and Alex shared a long look, before Mrs. Goldstein asked slowly "These Dursleys Harry, I don't want you to think I'm insulting your family or anything, but they don't hurt you right?" Harry wasn't allowed to talk about his punishments, Vernon had made sure he understood that, but he really didn't want to go back to the Dursleys. He couldn't say yes, but he didn't want to lie to the nice woman either, so he looked down to his feet and remained silent. "Harry this is important, has anyone ever hit you or touched you inappropriately?" Again, Harry remained silent, but that seemed to be enough for Mrs. Goldstein. She wrapped him in a hug and cooed to him "Oh I'm so sorry Harry! Don't worry, we won't let you go back somewhere you're not safe. Come on then, let's go!"

Harry was happy, yet confused as they walked as a group together out of the room, Harry's hand gripped in Mrs. Goldstein's. "Wait! Where are we going?" Mrs. Goldstein gave him a big smile and squeezed his hand. "Why, to the ministry of magic of course!"

A/N: Hello again! Slightly longer than usual. I just didn't want to cut this off in the middle all for the sake of keeping the same length chapters. Pretty emotional dramatic touchy feely chapter, but worry not dear readers, next chapter will be much more adventurous! Please review! For every review I get, I will drink one glass of water! This is all my haters big chance to have me drown! Just leave a review, and who knows what might happen.


	5. Chapter 5: The Sandbank

Chapter 5: The Sandbank

Vernon Dursley was having a great day. He happily screamed at several of his employees, and even dipped out to the bakery a block over to grab a doughnut. Ever since he had been rid of that good for nothing freak, things had been looking up for him and his perfectly normal family. At first he had been terrified that one of _them _might have come knocking in the night demanding answers. After all, he had been warned in that thrice damned letter that if anything happened to the freak, there would be grave consequences. And Vernon shuddered to think what sick and depraved consequences one of _those_ _people _could come up with in their twisted little minds.

Vernon wasn't the chief executive officer of one of the largest hardware manufacturers in Europe for nothing. Vernon was many things, overweight, quick tempered, an alcoholic, but nobody would ever accuse him of being daft. Vernon was no fool, and his ruthlessness was legendary at the Grunnings Corporation. So when the local news channel on the telly had reported a horrific car crash leaving a six year old boy hospitalized, not even a day after the freak had vanished no less, Vernon knew it couldn't be a coincidence. If Vernon had learned anything about _those_ _people _over the years, it was that when they were involved, there were no coincidences.

Mr. Dursley had a pretty good idea of what had happened to the boy, but it had left him with a terrifying dilemma. He could either go see the boy at the hospital, making up a story to explain his delay in checking up on him. Or he could ask Petunia to contact one of _them,_ like the letter had told him to do when something happened to the freak. Neither option was a good one, and both were a gamble he wasn't willing to take. Vernon had had many dealings with lawyers in his business ventures, so he was no stranger to the law. He knew what would happen if an unidentified minor was involved in a near-fatal accident. The police would be contacted, so if he just waltzed into the clinic, he would probably find himself behind bars very quickly. And Vernon definitely didn't want to get one of _them_ involved, if they checked up on the boy, Vernon would be lucky to get away with his life. He had spent nearly a week staring into the bottom of a bottle in a drunken stupor until he had an epiphany.

This was the lucky break he had been waiting for! Vernon was a businessman, and he knew an opportunity when he saw one. The dangers were many, and maybe even life-threatening, but what he stood to gain far outweighed the risks. Mr. Dursley had resented having the freak thrust on to his family, so he had taken a calculated risk.

They had never gotten full legal guardianship over the boy, he knew that because he had been denied from shipping the boy off to an orphanage. It had been the first thing he had tried to do after the little ingrate had been dumped on their doorstep. But the orphanage had told him his paperwork was invalid, and that he wasn't the real guardian of the boy, instead being the legally murky _caretaker_.

Vernon had hired a solicitor, and much to his dismay, he had been told that as a caretaker he had all of the legal responsibilities of a true blood parent, but held none of the rights or privileges. He had tried to find out who the real guardian was, but whoever it was had a much better barrister than he did, and had sent him a court-ordered cease and desist letter. Vernon had had to accept the burden of the loathsome freak after that. The only loophole was if the boy had been permanently hospitalized, he could relinquish his responsibility to the crown. But no matter how much he tried to, the boy always recovered from whatever injury Vernon tried to inflict on him. But he supposed even a freak of nature would have trouble coming out of a head on collision unscathed, and he had laughed insanely with glee as he filed the paperwork with the county court, finally free from the lousy nuisance forever.

That had been close to nine months ago, and he had never looked back. His gamble had paid dividends. Nobody had knocked on his door in the night, and no one had missed the boy. One teacher had come looking for him, a miss grogg or something, but Vernon had just told her and anyone else who stuck their nose where it didn't belong that he had the boy shipped off to military school for behavioral issues. Apparently, the good for nothing freak had been a right headache at school, so they believed him! The teacher had seemed devastated and broke down crying about wasted potential, but Vernon had shut the door in her face. Wasted potential, please! More like a service to the world! Yessir, he thought as he bit into his fresh doughnut and hopped in his new new company car and started the drive home, life was good, and even the heavy rain that started to deluge his windshield couldn't wash away his good mood.

On the other side of London, far from the flashy skyscrapers of the financial district, was a peculiar looking couple and a young boy. They were on the outskirts of the city in a trash filled graffiti riddled alley, and right before them stood an old red telephone booth that looked like it had been standing there since before the blitz. But the telephone booth was boring compared to the people standing before it. A silver blonde man with a five o'clock shadow and a wary look on his face stood just next to a woman. She was a brunette with waist length brown hair, and had sharp red and black glasses that glinted from the flickering light of the singular streetlight in the alley. She was currently kneeled down in front of a young boy, and he was the most striking of all of them.

Unlike the two adults, he wasn't dressed in any exotic clothes, wearing only a simple white t-shirt, a snug pair of ripped faded blue jeans, and a pair of red sneakers. But his plain clothes only seemed to accentuate his physical characteristics. He had fiery ruby red hair halfway down his back that appeared to be sparkling in the rain, fluttering slightly and changing slightly golden in hue on every spot a drop of water touched. He had a big charming smile on his face, with dazzling white teeth wide open in laughter. His pale skin glowed slightly in the dim light and his emerald green eyes were sparkling with mirth. His appearance was so flawless, that it was uncanny.

"And then one time Grace and Lucas teamed up together and soundly beat Anthony! Little Tony wouldn't speak to anyone for days! I promise Harry, you'll love them. Gracy might be annoyed with another boy in the family, but I think she might like having someone else with long hair to play with. You have very pretty hair Harry, I'm sure if you ask nicely, she might even brush it for you. Have you ever tried getting a haircut Harry?" Harry's laughter died abruptly, and his face turned an impressive shade of red. "M..my hair's not pretty!" he denied hotly. Harry stomped his right foot and pouted when Mrs. Goldstein laughed in response. "I'm not a girl! I don't need my hair brushed." He huffed and turned his nose up looking away from the frustrating woman. "And no, for your information, haircuts don't work on me. My hair just grows back as soon as I leave the barber." To Harry's horror, the woman actually squealed in delight. "Oh do you hear that Alex? There go your plans to recruit Harry! No doctor would be allowed to have long hair like Harry does! Obliviators are so much cooler anyway Harry! We go on missions and do way more fun things than listen to a million people complain about runny noses all day."

Doctor Goldstein did appear slightly annoyed, but it was probably because of other things, not because of his professional ambitions for Harry. "It was the just the one patient! Doctors do interesting things too! But as much as I'd like to debate this, we have things to do today!" Mrs. Goldstein sighed. "Fine, Alex is always the party pooper. But he is right we do have things to do." The doctor laughed "What was that you just said dear? Something about me being right? I must be hearing things." Viola swatted his arm. "Shush you, come here Harry."

Harry walked over and stood before the kind woman. "Turn around Harry, I have to fix your hair up. We don't want to draw too much attention." Harry did as instructed, but asked "why don't we wasn't to draw attention? You haven't done anything wrong right?" Harry suddenly realized he was with complete strangers, in a place with no one around. Sure he sort of knew the doctor, but what if they were criminals? All the stuff about magic and wizards could have been a trick just to lure him to be kidnapped. He almost started to panic, but Viola was quick to assure him.

"No nothing like that Harry, rest assured. It's just you're kind of famous in the wizarding world, and if anyone realized who you were, well, let's just say we would be better off if that didn't happen. It's lucky that you don't look anything like you're supposed to look like." Harry calmed down after that, and fully relaxed as her fingers braided his hair. It felt nice, and just as he sighed contentedly, something else occurred to him. "What do you mean I'm famous? What would I be famous for? Is that why so many strange looking people always seem to recognize me? And what am I supposed to look like?" Mrs. Goldstein laughed and finished with his hair before starting to massage his scalp, making Harry sigh happily. "This really isn't the time to talk about this Harry, but I promise I'll answer all of your questions later. Come along now, we've dawdled enough already."

"Don't tell me were going to do that squeezing thing like we did from the hospital again. I nearly puked." Doctor Goldstein answered this time. "That was disapperation Harry, but no, we're not doing that this time, come into the phone booth." Harry didn't think three people could fit into such a small space, but he squeezed in anyway. Almost magically, all three of them fit comfortably. Doctor Goldstein typed a number into the phone, and a vaguely feminine voice said "Ministry of Magic, please state your name and business." Alex and Viola shared a look, before Alex said "Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein and their son, here to visit the Administrative Registration Department." The phone booth whirred and started to descend. For a couple minutes, they couldn't see anything at all. Just as Harry was about to ask if they were stuck, they emerged into a huge cavernous atrium.

It was an amazing sight, with high vaulted ceilings, long polished dark wood floors, and many people wearing strange robes like Viola and Alex disappearing in and out of green flames. In the center of it all, was a huge golden fountain. There were three creatures that Harry didn't recognize, but standing taller than any of them was a beautiful woman in a long flowing dress, and a handsome man with a wand pointed skyward. Both were posed regally, reminiscent of a king and a queen out of a fairy tale. "Beautiful isn't it?" Viola whispered in his ear, and Harry just nodded still in awe from its grandeur. She chuckled and said "Just don't tell the goblins that." Harry looked around at her and was about to ask what goblins were, but before he could, the booth finally reached level ground.

With a bang the doors opened, and the phone box spat out three silver badges. Mrs. Goldstein helped Harry pin the badge to his shirt, and it read _Goldstein_ _Junior_, _up_ _to_ _something_. Mrs. Goldstein tittered nervously, "Somehow, that booth always seems to know things it shouldn't. Probably just an intention ward, but still it is quite unsettling. Oh well, nobody checks the badges anyway." Without another word, Mrs. Goldstein took Harry's hand, and led them through the crowds to join one of the lines.

It took them a solid fifteen minutes before they reached the front of the line, maybe this was because it was just after lunch time, but it still seemed like forever to Harry. There was a guard sitting at a desk, and he asked each person for some sort of stick, and then would give them a slip of paper. When they finally reached the man, he looked at Dr. and Mrs. Goldstein and said "Wands please." Dr. Goldstein suddenly found something fascinating about his fingernails, and Viola cleared her throat. "My husband has no wand, but him and my son here are with me." She pulled a thin red wand from her sleeve, and handed it to the Guard. The guard accepted her wand, but did so hesitantly for some reason. Mysteriously, the guard seemed upset about something. Harry heard him mutter "blood-traitors and muggles, they let anybody in here nowadays." Mrs. Goldstein heard too, and looked very angry about it, but she didn't say anything. Finally the guard gave them all slips, and let them though. Just before they rounded the corner, Harry looked back and saw him staring at Alex like he was some kind of scum on the bottom of his shoe.

"Why did guard say those things Mrs. Goldstein?" Viola lost the angry look in her eyes, and smiled down at Harry. "Some people are afraid of what they don't understand Harry, and fear causes hatred. Pay those people no mind, they're not worth your time." But Harry still couldn't understand why anyone would fear the kind Dr. Goldstein, so he said "Well those people are stupid, Why would anyone hate Dr. Goldstein? I think he's great!" Alex came up behind him and ruffled his hair. "Thanks for the vote of confidence sport, whaddya say we get this over with and get outta here, huh?" Harry nodded. "That sounds good."

One elevator ride and three hallways later they stood outside of an black office door with a golden plaque on it that read _Administrative_ _Registration_ _Department_. Mrs. Goldstein turned to her husband and said "Alex, wait here with Harry. I owled the paperwork ahead already, so I should be back in a few minutes if all goes well." The doctor nodded, and took Harry over to a bench against the wall to wait. More than a few minutes passed, and Harry surmised that all was not going well.

He had just finished counting his three hundredth ceiling tile when Mrs. Goldstein stormed through the door and slammed it shut behind her. Harry could've sworn he saw steam coming out of her ears. She shoved some papers in Dr. Goldsteins face. "Alex do you know where this address is approximately?" she asked with a growl. The doctor looked about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. He looked down at the paper and didn't answer for a minute. "This is in Surrey, it sounds vaguely familiar, why?" This time, Harry was sure he saw steam coming out of her ears. She shook her head and said "Later, where is your car?" The doctor looked surprised. "Back at work why?" She shook her again. "Let's get out of here, I hope you're ready for a road trip." Another elevator ride, and a dizzying trip through green flames later, they back on the dingy street by the telephone booth.

"Harry, I'm sorry about this, but it's necessary." She grabbed his hand and touched her husbands shoulder. A moment later, he felt that same nauseating sensation of being squeezed through a tube. It was suffocating, and he thought he might black out, but he was mercifully thrown to the ground. He really did puke this time, and he curled up in a fetal position gasping for breathe. Someone picked him up, and he dug his face into their chest.

He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, he found himself buckled into the back of a car speeding along the roadway. Harry looked around and admired his surroundings. It was even nicer than his Uncle Vernon's expensive company cars. He was sitting in soft beige leather seat, and the doors were paneled with shining glossy wood. It was still raining out, but the sun was shining as well, leaving a rainbow stretched just over the horizon. "Feeling better Harry?" Harry looked to the front of the car and saw Mrs. Goldstein in the passenger seat looking at him with concern. He nodded faintly and said "I feel better now, just don't make it do that again." She nodded. "Someone your age isn't supposed to do apparition at all, let alone multiple times a day. You're much stronger magically than an average seven year old, so we thought you could handle it, but it was still a mistake. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you, I promise." Harry again only nodded. She gave him a big smile and rubbed his cheek, making Harry finally return the smile. Mrs. Goldstein slowly ran a hand through his hair while talking in low tones with her husband. Harry fell asleep again a few minutes later, being lulled to dreams by the steady patter of rain on the window, and the comforting hand of Mrs. Goldstein.

A while later, while Harry was still sleeping, the car slowed down and parked just outside a house. There was a whispered conversation before Viola quietly opened her door and stepped out of the car carrying a folder of papers under arm. Before she could take another step though, a second car came blaring up the street and around the corner. It screeched to a stop in the driveway of the house they were parked outside. An obese man with a thick mustache and a black briefcase stepped out of the car. He waddled up to the door of the house, threw it open without so much as knocking, and slammed it shut behind him. Viola hesitated for just a moment before continuing, walking up to the same door the fat man had just gone in and pulling out her wand.

Viola knew what she was going to ask for would be refused if she gave them a choice, so she would use force. She wasn't above breaking the law for a good cause, besides, when she was finished, nobody would remember anything. Thinking through a few more details, she waited a few minutes to plan her course of action before she knocked on the door, tense and prepared for anything. But instead of the fat man who had entered a few minutes earlier, a horse faced woman who was hideously thin poked her head out the door. "What do you want?" the gaunt woman asked with a sneer.

Quickly modifying her plan, she put on her best smile, and said "Oh, I'm here to speak with your husband, I'm his secretary you see, here to discuss business." The still sneering woman creepily roved her eyes over Viola's body, and apparently saw something she liked. With a greedy glint in her eyes, she opened the door wide and said in a strangely raspy voice "Oh please, do come in and make yourself at home." Viola walked in and shut the door behind her. She waited until the woman had turned her back before pointing her wand and whispering "_Stupify_." With a thud, the equine woman collapsed to the ground.

"Pet, are you okay? What was that noise I heard?" A voice called from the kitchen. Quietly stepping over the woman, Viola casually walked into the kitchen. The fat man who had arrived just before her was sitting in a chair at a table eating a bowl of soup. He dropped his spoon with a clatter and knocked his chair over to stand up, and shouted "Who the blazes are you? Get the devil out of my house before I have you arrested for breaking and entering!" Viola smiled maliciously, and pointed her wand into the man's face. He turned pale as a ghost. "Y..you're o..one of those f..f..freaks aren't you?" Viola's smile grew vicious. "You're going to do exactly as I say scum. _Imperio_!" Like a light bulb being switched off, the man's face slackened instantaneously into a glazed look. Viola cackled in satisfaction, victory was sweet. "Now listen very closely…"

An hour later, she rejoined her husband in the car with a stack of papers three times as big as the one she left with. She looked into the back seat and sighed with relief, Harry was still sleeping soundly. "Get everything?" her husband asked. She let loose one final quiet cackle. "Oh that and more. I got so much more than I had hoped for." She reached back and ran a hand through Harry's hair, and he smiled slightly in his sleep. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," her husband said, before pulling the car out of park and driving away. "Oh you're much too cute to be on my bad side Alex, I would have thought you would have known that by now." she gave him a kiss on the cheek. The doctor grumbled something like "not cute," but he smiled anyway.

By the time the car slowed down again the sun was starting to set. They passed over a big bump, and Harry woke with a start. He looked out the window and gasped. They were driving on a low one lane bridge that ran over a vast sea, with the rolling waves stretching for miles farther than the eye could see. And coming closer and closer into view was an enormous wooded island in the center of it all. Just as they passed over the bridge onto the island, Harry heard a huge splash. He looked back, and saw that the one lane bridge they had been driving on had disappeared into the water! "Hey, that bridge just sunk into the water! Won't we be stuck?" he asked. Doctor Goldstein reached back and ruffled his hair. "It's supposed to do that, my own design, keeps our home private, and unwanted intruders out." Harry was amazed, he was a doctor as well as an engineer? Was there anything this man couldn't do? "How did you de…" but cut himself off when they drove into a clearing and parked besides another car.

There standing easily six stories tall, taller than the giant trees surrounding it, was the biggest wooden house Harry had ever seen. The house was a rainbow of different colors of wood, but still looked modern with lots of windows and even a couple balconies visible on the higher levels. It had huge stone pillars supporting a long porch in front of the enormous front doors. As he stepped out of the car, he turned to Mrs. Goldstein and asked "What.. What is this place?" She replied by squeezing him into a hug and whispering in his ear "Welcome to your new home Harry."

A/N: Much longer than normal again. I promise this will not be a regular occurrence. If this was long for you to read, trust me, it took much longer to write it. I hope you guys like it and it was worth the effort! Please review and tell me what you think! I welcome comments, praise, and even legitimate criticism. Do you guys want me to start naming the chapters? Okay, that's all for now, next chapter will be a little more exciting, and more focused on Harry instead of world building.


	6. Chapter 6: Doctor Harry Potter

Chapter 6: Doctor Harry Potter

The trees swayed in the wind as Harry walked down the sidewalk. Colorful leaves dropped to the ground after every strong gust. It was autumn, and the weather was slowly becoming more chilly. A harsh breeze made Harry shiver as he reached inside his long white coat pocket and pulled out a key card. He put it up to a pad next to the door. Beep! The door clicked open. Harry got quite a few stares as he walked down the hallway. He was used to it, but there was something different about the way people were looking at him today. He didn't let it bother him though, he had far more important things to do than to lose sleep over such trivialities.

As Harry walked down the hallway, many people called out to him, but he ignored them and continued on his way. A few daring ones tried to approach him, but a pair of hulking security guards who had stepped to his side as soon as he had entered the building stopped anyone from getting too close. Harry walked with his eyes to the ground until he reached a pair of gold metal doors. He then put his hand on another pad beside the doors. The pad glowed several different colors very fast. When it stopped glowing, Harry took his hand off the pad. A moment later the doors opened, and Harry walked inside his laboratory with nary a backwards glance.

His lab was interesting to say the least. On the right side of the wall there was huge computer monitor, with an equally large keyboard beneath it. Unlike a normal computer, there were several knobs on the monitor similar to what you might use for a stove. Directly parallel, on the left hand side of the room, was a very long gold metal table. But the table itself was boring compared to what laid atop it. Rows and rows of beakers and flasks full of colorful liquids sat there. There were some bubbling on an open flame and others corked and neatly placed on shelves. At the edge of the table sat many strange contraptions. A strange glowing machine that looked like a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a machine gun was sparking and making a buzzing sound. It had gauges and buttons labeled in illegible symbols, and the air around it wavered like a desert mirage. But Harry ignored all of this, and went directly to the far side of the room.

He took a notepad and pen out of another pocket in his white coat, then sat down on a stool. He leaned forward and peered through a thick glass window. The only thing visible through the glass was a long metallic arm hanging over a pool of vividly glowing red liquid. Without looking down, Harry's right hand moved over an enormous black board, pushing up switches and pressing down buttons in an unfollowable pattern. His left hand wrote unreadable scrawl at a lightning pace on his notepad the whole time. It wasn't until a green light flashed on the board that Harry stopped pressing buttons. He then put down his notepad and moved both his hands to two big red joysticks.

Slowly, the arm lowered into the red liquid, and Harry stopped looking through the glass, instead turning his attention to a small computer screen on the desk. Endless lines of green text flashed by so quickly, it should have been impossible to read. But Harry didn't seem to be perturbed. Just the opposite. Harry seemed perfectly calm, and he was staring intensely at the screen with focused concentration. This continued for a few minutes, with Harry muttering something unintelligible every now and then without looking away from the screen.

Finally, after about an hour, Harry smiled and laughed, looking away from the screen for a moment. But suddenly, red light lit up the whole lab. Harry looked back to the computer and saw a box with flashing text on the screen, and an alarm siren started going off. "Oh Fu.." Harry stopped laughing and dove under the desk. Not a second later, an enormous blast rocked the whole laboratory. Ceiling sprinklers went off, and Harry suddenly found himself getting soaked.

Slowly, with his ears still ringing from the explosion, he crawled out from under the desk. Harry went over to the wall by the door and punched a big red button. Instantly, the sprinklers switched off, and a moment later the alarm and red light shut off as well.

Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Shrugging off his wet coat, he turned around and went over to the glass window. Harry knew that if it had been a normal glass window, it would surely have shattered. Like many things in his lab, the three feet thick glass viewing window was magically enhanced to be able to withstand even the harshest explosions. But while the window itself might have escaped the blast unscathed, the things on the other side of it weren't. The metal arm was half melted and deformed, and the pool of red liquid had splashed all over the room.

Harry reached for his notepad, but found it destroyed from the water. He threw it in the rubbish bin and got a new one out of a drawer. "Test number 9,142. Experiment ended with explosive failure. Cause undetermined. Proceeding with investigative inspection of containment room," he wrote aloud. Harry walked over to the corner and started to put on a full body yellow plastic suit that was hanging on a hook. He strapped a big air tank to his back, and put a gas mask on his face. Harry sighed while taping closed the ends of his body suit. A few years ago he would have been more upset. But ever since his first discovery, life had never been the same. Now he had almost unlimited funding, so even wildly expensive things like the metal arm were no trouble to replace. It was still a pain to clean up, and as Harry heaved a big metal wheel opening the door for an airlock, he thought about how he how far he had come.

After Harry had been adopted by the Goldsteins, he had had a rough time adjusting to his new life. Anthony, the eldest son of Dr. and Mrs. Goldstein, hadn't liked having Harry thrust on him, especially since Harry wasn't even blood related to him. Anthony, or Tony as his family called him, was a brooding child with dark ebony hair, and stormy blue eyes. His temperament matched his appearance, giving Anthony a surly air about him, and he rarely seemed to smile. Anthony had resented having another brother, choosing to interpret Harry as a rival for his parent's attention. Anthony had made it his mission to "put Harry in his place". Dr. and Mrs. Goldstein tried to make Anthony be nice, but they couldn't control him when there was nobody watching. Harry would have found it unbearable if it hadn't been for Grace.

The middle child and the only daughter in the family, Grace had taken an instant liking to Harry. As Mrs. Goldstein had predicted, Grace had been thrilled to have someone brush her hair. Harry secretly enjoyed it when she returned the favor, but if anyone had asked, he would have denied it. Grace, like her father, had blonde hair. But she had inherited her mother's lightheartedness, and a charisma that would have made politicians green with envy. Nobody seemed to be able to tell Grace no about anything, and that included Harry. She was the most persuasive person Harry had ever met. Sometimes she would ask him to try on her dresses to "see how they fit a different frame." Harry would have flat out refused had anyone else asked him to try on girl clothing. But all Grace had to do was smile and say please, and Harry would do it without hesitation. Grace was also one of the kindest people Harry had ever met. She had decided that Harry was her new sister, and had protected him from Tony. She was fun to be around, and Harry considered her to be family in all but blood.

The last member of the family, Lucas, was the youngest and the other boy in the family. Lucas had brown hair like his mother, but possessed unique soft gray eyes. Lucas was only two years old, but so far as Harry could tell, he was happy to have another brother. Harry had done his best to spoil him, bringing home lollipops that Lucas loved.

For a few weeks after arriving at the Goldstein island, or "The Sandbank" as the family called it, Harry didn't do anything productive. He did a lot of swimming in the sea, and played poker with Grace. Harry was a great swimmer, but he always lost poker to Grace. She always seemed to know when he was bluffing, but Harry didn't mind, he just enjoyed her company. Eventually, Mrs. Goldstein seemed to think it would be a good idea for Harry to go back to school. Harry agreed, but the thought of going back to school without Sofia made his stomach churn.

Harry wanted nothing more than for Sofia to get better, and visited her everyday. Doctor Goldstein had sat him down and explained that the doctors were doing everything they could, but that her coma was incurable. She would have to wake up herself. Harry had asked if there was a magical remedy, but to his growing misery, was told that there was no magical cure for comas. There was a potion for induced comas, like if someone was cursed, but natural comas were different. Harry had almost cried when he heard that, but he steeled himself. His friend needed him, and Harry had never let impossible odds stop him before, he wasn't about to start when Sofia was counting on him.

Resolved to help Sofia, Harry decided to start back with school. He had only one goal. He was going to cure Sofia, no matter what it took.

He wasn't about to wait ten years to finish secondary school either, Sofia couldn't wait that long. So Harry decided to finish school early, and applied to take his GCSEs early. Harry had to get a special waver since he was so young, but all he had to do was ask Mrs. Goldstein for help, and it was no problem.

When he had got to the testing centre, people unabashedly stared at him. Harry couldn't blame them either. After all, it wasn't everyday that a seven year old tried to test out of school over a decade early. Add to that his unusual appearance, and Harry stuck out like a sore thumb.

One boy had hunched over and spoke in a patronizing tone to Harry "Say, are you lost little boy, this is a testing centre for GCSEs. The nap time testing centre building is next door." A few people laughed, but Harry ignored them. He was just there for a few hours, it wasn't worth getting into it with anyone.

Harry finished before anyone else in just under two hours. It had been easy. Harry had studied for a month beforehand, and had read and memorized whole textbooks, but the test had asked him about things he had learned ages ago. A few weeks later when he got his scores back, he received a handwritten note from the test centre telling him he had gotten their highest score ever recorded.

Done with secondary school, Harry applied to university. He got into everywhere he applied, but Harry didn't care where he went, he was just interested in finishing as fast as possible. Every day he wasted being forced to take classes on things he already knew was a day that Sofia would never get back. Harry didn't want to spend four years in university, so he applied a second time into accelerated programs. Again, he got in everywhere he applied, but the earliest finishing program was at Oxford, so that's where he chose to attend.

The next three years rushed by in a blur. It was incredibly time consuming, and required immense effort, but Harry had beat the odds and achieved the impossible. He finished his bachelors in one year, and med school in two years, smashing records to become the youngest licensed doctor in the world. Technically, it should have taken more time for his residency, but a few words to Mrs. Goldstein, and that little problem vanished. There had been a huge party thrown for Harry at The Sandbank, but Harry still wasn't satisfied.

Since he had an in with Doctor Goldstein, he had quickly been hired by the hospital as an on call physician, and had used his new medical knowledge to properly examine Sofia. Sadly, no matter how much he didn't want to, he came to the inevitable conclusion that the doctors had been right all along. There was no medicine that existed that could help Sofia. So, seeing no alternative, Harry set about making a new medicine, one that could wake up coma patients.

Unfortunately, this was easier said than done. For weeks his experiments to synthesize a coma cure were fruitless. Countless lab mice had died at his hands, and Harry had almost given up when he got his first big break.

He had been experimenting with stimulating the brain by increasing blood flow, hoping that the increase in oxygen could wake someone unconscious. Harry discovered a method to clear out blocked arteries, but it made no difference for coma patients. Harry was extremely frustrated, and he had almost thrown all his work away and started again. But before he did, Grace, who Harry regularly vented his feelings to, convinced him to send his findings into one of the medical journals he read, _The_ _Lancet_. She thought maybe someone else would benefit from his work. Harry thought it unlikely a prestigious medical journal would care what Harry had to say. They would probably laugh at him like those kids from the testing centre. But as always, Harry could never tell Grace no, so he had reluctantly submitted his findings.

To Harry's immense surprise, _The_ _Lancet_ not only published his findings, but printed them front page, proclaiming his work a revolutionary development for cardiac diseases. Overnight, Harry went from being a relatively unknown - albeit extremely young and talented - doctor, to being famous for curing diseases. Harry was bombarded with countless interview requests and job offers. Harry almost rejected it all out of hand. He had never wanted any attention. He just wanted to have his friend back. But before Harry could tell his new admirers to bugger off, Mrs. Goldstein tried to make him see the potential benefits.

"Harry think about it from a logical perspective. I know you don't like fame, but you want to help Sofia right?" Harry reluctantly nodded. "Then go do an interview! You'll never find a cure working as a physician at a hospital! When life throws you lemons, make lemonade! A real lab where you could do real experiments would help you immensely! And you'll get the best opportunity for that if you embrace your newfound fame." Harry again nodded. She had some good points. "I'll think about it," he had told her. But he wasn't going to rush a decision like that, so he had retreated to his room to be alone with his thoughts.

The Goldsteins had explained to Harry that he was famous in the wizarding world for killing an evil wizard as a baby. Harry couldn't remember doing anything like that, so he didn't really know how to feel about it. Mostly he felt indifferent, but he was also perplexed. It made no sense that a defenseless infant could take down a powerful wizard. So he had come to the only logical conclusion that there had to have been other outside factors, and that Harry had just gotten the credit. Still, being famous in the magical world versus being famous in the rest of the world were two very different things. Harry had never really been affected by his magical fame, aside from an occasional handshake with strangers every now and then. Indeed, Harry hadn't even known what he was famous for until the Goldsteins had explained it to him. But if he was famous in the non-magical world, everything would change.

Harry spent a long time staring out his top floor window thinking about it. The rolling waves of the sea and swaying trees of the island seemed to reflect his pensive mood. He spent all day by the window, letting the sounds of nature bring peace to his mind. By the time darkness had fallen, he had come to a decision. Harry decided that the benefits of being famous outweighed any disadvantages he could think of. But he also decided that if he was going to be famous, Harry was going to do it properly. He talked to Mrs. Goldstein, and she set him up an appointment to go on national television.

Before Harry knew it, he was dressed in a gold button down shirt, waiting backstage for his name to be called. He was pacing back and forth thinking about all the things that could go wrong. "Please welcome Doctor Harry Potter!" There was thunderous applause, and Harry took a deep breath before he walked out onto the stage. Harry shook hands with a person he had seen Dudley watching on the telly before. The thought of Dudley seeing him on the telly brought a wry smile to Harry's face. The little whale would probably be beside himself with jealousy.

Harry was led on to center stage and offered a seat. He sat down, and that was when he noticed the audience had become silent. Harry looked to the man sitting in the chair across from him. The man was bald and had a pair of thick black frames on his nose. He was gaping at Harry with wide unfocused eyes, and he seemed dazed. "Uh… Thanks for having me." Harry said politely. The man didn't seem to hear him. Harry nervously patted his hair clips. Perhaps this had been a mistake after all. But the man finally seemed to snap out of his trance, "_You're_ Doctor Harry Potter?" The man looked back stage. "Has there been a mistake?" Harry crossed his arms. "I am Doctor Harry Potter. There has been no mistake." The man's head swiveled back to Harry and his jaw dropped. "But that's impossible! You're what, eight years old? Doctor Harry Potter is one of the countries top scientists!"

Now Harry was starting to get upset. He wondered if people would always judge him for his appearance. "Excuse me! I'm not eight! I'm ten years old, almost eleven! And I know I'm very young, but I would ask you to reserve judgement." Harry paused, but the man still seemed skeptical, so he tried a different approach. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Doctor Goldstein have given it to him as a graduation present. "If you need proof, here's my badge from work." Harry handed the man his hospital ID, and watched several emotions flitter through the man's face. There was a stunned silence for a few moments before the man laughed and held the card up to cameras. The audience burst into applause and the man shook Harry's hand vigorously to loud cheering.

After that the interview had gone smoothly, and the man had asked him to explain several things about _The_ _Lancet_ article. Harry had done so happily, but the man didn't seem to be able to believe what was coming out of Harry's mouth. "It's just amazing! A ten year old finding a cure for diseases that kill millions every year, that whole generations of genius scientists couldn't come close to solving. Tell me young Dr. Potter, can I call you Harry?" He didn't wait for Harry to respond. "What motivates you? Most young boys your age would be worrying about their next Christmas present, not about curing diseases. What drove you to become a doctor at such an impossibly young age? It's not a girl is it?" Harry stammered a denial, but he couldn't stop the blush that fanned out on his cheeks. He cursed silently as the flashes from cameras going off blinded him, why did he have to ask that question?

Harry's blushing face had been splashed liberally on the front page of every paper the next day. One gossip magazine had a particularly embarrassing headline. Overlaid Harry's red face in big bold lettering _Young_ _love_ _cures_ _all_? Mrs. Goldstein had proudly framed that magazine, much to his chagrin, then hung it in the entrance way for all to see.

That had been two months ago, and after his interview, Harry had accepted a position at The Francis Crick Institute. They had offered him his own lab, which had been critical for Harry since he knew he would be using magical equipment that he couldn't leave lying around for anyone to see. Harry was just about to enter the airlock when there was a banging on the sealed lab door.

"Doctor Potter!" called an unfamiliar voice from behind door. Harry hesitated, maybe they were checking on him about the explosion? No that couldn't be it, explosions were almost commonplace here ever since he had arrived. Not just anyone could disturb him either, Doctor Goldstein had had security systems installed that saw to that. So he figured it had to be the Institute director, since she was the only one authorized to do so. "Yes director? I'm a little busy at the moment! What is it?" Harry stepped out of the airlock and walked over to the door, taking off his gas mask to better hear the person. "So sorry to disturb you Doctor! I know you're doing very important work…" The person was rambling and Harry was losing patience. "What is director? I don't have all day!" Harry called through the door. "Oh very well. You have a visitor! I know you gave express instructions that no visitors were allowed, but he was most insistent, and we couldn't stop him! I've tried calling the police..." What nonsense was this? A visitor? Why didn't security stop them? Harry pinched his nose and sighed. "Let's get this over with." he muttered as he hit a big blue button.

The gold lab doors slid open, and standing there was the most peculiar looking old man Harry had ever seen. He had a long white beard that reached his knees, and wore half-moon spectacles that partially hid twinkling blue eyes. His nose was crooked, and he was wearing what looked like a dress. "Doctor Potter... I must say you're not at all like I was expecting." The old man grabbed Harry's hand and shook forcefully. Harry was dumbfounded "W..Who are you? And how did you get past security?" he asked. The old man's blue eyes started twinkling even harder. "Ah, yes of course, where are my manners." He gave an exaggerated bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Albus Pecival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, but you can call me Headmaster."

A/N: Sorry for the long absence. Been super busy with uni. Don't worry though, I will keep going with this story, and complete it no matter how long it takes me to finish writing. I won't abandon the story, don't worry. But if there are big spaces in between updates, just know I'm busy with real life things, it's not because I'm lazy. I just finished my midterms, so I had some time to update this story. I wasn't really sure where to go from the last chapter, but I thought that since Harry was so smart, it was inevitable that the Muggles would notice him. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Next chapter will be much more involved in the magical world, and Harry will finally start magic school! There will be a big plot twist in that regard, but no spoilers! You'll have to follow to find out what happens.


	7. Chapter 7: Hogwarts

Chapter 7: Hogwarts

Harry stared at the man for a few moments before bursting into laughter. "Oh that's a good one, really mister, very funny." Harry turned to the director "Director I expected more from you. I don't have time to deal with every joker who waltzes in here, please have security see this man out." Harry turned around and made to close the doors, but the old man spoke up once more. "Doctor Potter, it would behoove you to spare me a moment of your time. I think you'll find what I have to say very interesting, especially concerning a certain bedridden young woman." Harry froze. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around and spoke in a harsh whisper, his emerald eyes blazing with a barely contained fury. "Director if you could excuse us for a moment." The woman made to object, but she took one look at Harry's face and thought better of it. "I'll be back with help." Harry just nodded and made a shooing motion with his hand, and the director rushed off down the hallway. Harry's eyes followed her figure until it disappeared around the corner and then turned back to the old man.

"What do you know about Sofia? Who told you that she was in a coma?" he interrogated. Harry's friendship with Sofia wasn't exactly common knowledge. Sure, lots of people had speculated on him having a girlfriend after his embarrassing moment on the telly, but no one had ever connected the dots before. So when a stranger Harry had never met casually mentioned something they had no business knowing about, Harry was instantly on guard.

But the old man ignored his questioning and walked into the lab without invitation. "I think that, perhaps, this is a conversation best had in a more private setting." The nerve of this guy! Who did he think he was? Harry followed into the lab and the doors slid closed behind him. "There, nobody will hear us now, now you had better start talking! How do you know about me and Sofia?" But Dumbledore did not seem to be in a rush to answer, and he pulled out his wand and conjured a chintz armchair to sit in. Harry noticed immediately that Dumbledore did not put away his wand, instead leaving it lowered but pointed in Harry's direction. "Please, have a seat Mr. Potter." Dumbledore conjured a metal folding chair and gestured with his wand for Harry to sit. Wary of the implied threat, Harry did so.

The long bearded old man smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Now onto business, but before I get to your questions, I have something for you." He reached behind his back and pulled a letter out of thin air. Dumbledore handed the letter to Harry, and he quickly observed that it was not a normal letter. It was made of a paper much thicker than Harry had ever handled before. There was a strange coat of arms, and it was sealed with red wax. Flipping it over, he saw in surprise his own name and address written in cursive script with an emerald green ink. _Dr. H. Potter. The laboratory at the end of the hall, First floor, Francis Crick Institute, London._ Harry peered over at the old man, he had a sneaking suspicion that he was up to something. "Well? Go ahead and open it!" he was told. Harry cast about for some reason to say no, but he came up short. Seeing no alternative, Harry pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Dr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Harry put down the letter and looked calculatingly at Dumbledore. He of course knew what Hogwarts was, and he knew that the headmaster was Albus Dumbledore. Harry had assumed that Dumbledore was a common magical surname, and that it was just a coincidence that many people who were in magical positions of power shared a name. Now having it spelled out so plainly in front of him, Harry realized that he was looking at a man who could quite literally get away with murder.

Harry hadn't recognized him, but now that he was looking closely, the old man sitting across from him did very much resemble the young man whose picture he had seen. Just a few days ago, the Goldsteins had given Harry a dusty old book about the school since they thought it very likely for Harry to soon be receiving his acceptance letter. In _Hogwarts: A History_, Harry had read that professors sometimes hand delivered acceptance letters to muggleborns or orphans. And although Harry was an orphan, he thought it very curious to be visited by the headmaster himself. Harry knew he was famous, but he would've thought that a man with so many time consuming jobs would designate menial talks to his underlings. Harry found himself starting to get a headache, so he looked away from those twinkling blue eyes and rubbed his temples.

Dumbledore broke the silence after a few seconds. "I suppose you're wondering why I am here." Harry looked up sharply. "Yes, that's exactly what I was wondering, but why don't you answer my question about how you know certain things that should be impossible for you to know." The old man laughed like he found that to be a delightful joke. "Ah Harry my boy, your naivety is simply delightful. Very well, I'll indulge your curiosity, but be warned, you might not like what I have to say." Harry was seething. He didn't care who this man was, he was not naive, and the diploma on the wall was evidence of that.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore started to speak again, until Harry interrupted him,"It's Doctor Potter, thank you very much." But to harry's growing frustration, the old man continued on like he hadn't heard. "Mr. Potter, I am here for a few reasons. First and foremost, to deliver your acceptance letter. Congratulations by the way. But I am also here to, shall we say, correct, a few mistakes you've made." Harry gulped and glanced at the wand that was still pointing towards him. Dumbledore apparently noticed where his attention had shifted. "Not to worry, Mr. Potter, there will be no need for the use of force… that is, unless you prove uncooperative."

Harry gulped again. He did not like the way this conversation was going. He glanced at his scuffed watch, it had been almost half an hour. Where was the director? Harry would have thought that she could raise an army by now. He thought on it no longer as Dumbledore started to speak again. "As to your other question, about why I know about your relationship with young Ms. Shafiq, the answer is quite simple." Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry found himself admiring the old wizard across from him. He certainly had a flair for the dramatic. "Well?" Harry asked impatiently. Dumbledore grinned. "Like I said, the answer is quite simple. Ms. Shafiq is my employee. I hired her to be your bodyguard."

Harry reeled backwards like he had been struck and toppled backwards off the metal folding chair with a clang. He tried to get to his feet, but found his legs wouldn't support his weight. Harry pointed a shaking accusatory finger at Dumbledore, "Y..you're lying! That's not possible!" Dumbledore stood up and walked over until he was standing directly above Harry. The lights started to flicker, and Harry felt a feeling of dread building in his gut. "I assure you Mr. Potter, it is very possible." Harry crawled backwards away from the old wizard. He bumped up against the wall and put his hands on his ears, shaking his head. "No.. no.. NO! Sofia wouldn't have hid something like that from me! She would've told me!" Harry looked up at Dumbledore, who was once more standing above him, with tears in his eyes. "She's my best friend! Sofia isn't that kind of person!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry… if it's any comfort, you're not entirely wrong. In fact, if she hadn't tried to do exactly as you suggest she should have done, she would not be in the predicament she is in now. Truly regrettable, but I could not allow her to tell you more than you needed to know. It had to be done, for the greater good." By this point, Harry was shaking uncontrollably, and only a single emergency light partially lit up the room.

But even in his disheveled state, Harry didn't miss the significance of Dumbledore's words. "It was you! You set that monster after me! You caused the crash!" Harry was overcome with rage, and tried to get up and attack the old man, but suddenly found himself unable to move. "I'm afraid we are out of time, Mr. Potter, I'll consider discussing this with you further in a few days, after you've settled in at Hogwarts. Hagrid will come to take you to get your school supplies tomorrow." Harry struggled immensely, but his paralysis held. All he could do was stare up at Dumbledore with pure fury and say "I'll never go to a school run by you! You can't make me!" Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but just then, all the bubbling liquids on the table exploded in a rainbow colored mushroom cloud.

Dumbledore only just managed to put up a shield in time, but the rest of the room was vaporized, and the ceiling started to cave in. As sirens went off in the distance, Dumbledore turned to him and put his wand in Harry's face. "You will attend Hogwarts Mr. Potter, or else, Ms. Shafiq won't be the only one to suffer an unfortunate accident." The shield was starting to waver from the intense heat of the explosion, and Dumbledore turned to Harry with a mournful expression on his face. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this Mr. Potter …But you've left me with no choice. _Obliviate_!" Harry had only a split second to see a blue light before he blacked out.

BANG BANG BANG! Harry jolted awake with a start. His breath was coming in short gasps, and he felt his head might split open it hurt so bad. Harry moaned and put his pillow over his head, trying to block out the noise. BANG BANG! "Harry wake up! Hagrid is here to take you to get your supplies!" Hagrid? Who's Hagrid? What supplies? He rolled out of bed with a groan, and walked over to open the door. Blam! Harry got sucker punched, and he fell to the floor clutching a bleeding nose.

"Oh my god Harry! I'm so sorry! I'll get mum. I'll be right back!" Harry wasn't going anywhere though, he just laid there on the ground in pain. A few agonizing minutes later, someone scooped him up, and pried his bloody hands from his face. _Episkey_! Harry's nose stopped bleeding, and his headache faded a bit. He opened his eyes to see the concerned face of Mrs. Goldstein. "Harry are you okay, what happened?" Harry just moaned and buried his face in her chest. Mrs. Goldstein rubbed his back and hummed a comforting tune. "I was knocking on his door to wake him up, and he opened the door really fast, and.. and.. I accidentally punched him." He heard a familiar voice say. "Grace! How could you be so careless! Apologize to your brother now!" Mrs. Goldstein lifted Harry's face from her chest so he could see Grace. "I'm sorry Harry." she said. Harry smiled. "It's okay grace, what were you saying about supplies?" Grace looked at Harry with concern. "Harry don't you remember? Just yesterday, you came home and told us that you had decided to attend Hogwarts! Caretaker Hagrid is here to escort you for your supplies!"

Harry opened his mouth to say he didn't remember that happening, but stopped short. Now that he thought about it, he did remember exactly that happening. He had been so happy to receive his letter, after all, everyone knew that Hogwarts was the very best school of witchcraft and wizardry. "Of course! Where is Hagrid now? Oh I'm so excited!" Harry squealed. Mrs. Goldstein put a hand on Harry's forehead. "Are you feeling alright sweety? You seem to be running a high temperature." Harry shook his head. "Honestly! I feel fine! Can I go now?"

Mrs. Goldstein conjured a wet handkerchief and wiped the blood off Harry's face. Voice dripping with reluctance, she said "Alright pumpkin, you have a good time. Be back before dark. Are you sure you don't want us to come?" Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes I'm sure. I'll see you later mum!" He hugged her and ran off down the stairs in search of Hagrid. Viola stood frozen with shock, and it wasn't until a minute later when Grace spoke up that she came back to her senses. "I'm beginning to think I may have rattled his brain when I punched him. That's the first time he's ever called you mum." Viola could only nod mutely.

Meanwhile, Harry had found the giant caretaker at the edge of The Sandbank, on the far side of the bridge. "Harry! Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby! Yer not how I'd thought you'd look. Yeh look just like yer mum you do." Harry got a big happy smile on his face, the thought of looking like his mother filled him with a warm feeling for some reason. "Do I really? Nobody's ever told me about my parents before! Did you know them Hagrid?" "Course! Yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew! But we've no time fer chit chat right now Harry, we best be off, lots ter do today." Harry's smile slid off his face. "Oh right, of course, let's get going." Without another word, the odd pair set off for London.

Harry had been to Diagon Alley with the Goldsteins before, but they usually brought him by floo powder. Hagrid strangely insisted they go by muggle means. As a result, the trip to London was filled with many stares from the non-magical population. Hagrid was easily twice as big as a normal person, and his constant knitting of a canary yellow circus tent didn't help matters. After they had gotten off the train, they started walking in the direction of Diagon Alley. It was really windy, and Harry's returning headache combined with the light mist of a cold dreary autumn day dampened Harry's spirits. He was just about to ask Hagrid if he knew anything that could help his pounding head when something was blown in his face. Harry quickly managed to free himself, and he saw that a newspaper had landed in front of him. But what the newspaper said made him feel like someone had put a jackhammer in his skull. It read:

EXPLOSION AT FRANCIS CRICK INSTITUTE! AWARD WINNING DOCTOR HARRY POTTER MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD! And there below the headline were two pictures. The first was the infamous - Harry liked to think so anyway - blushing photo of Harry, and the other was a picture of the Institute. Except instead of the normally proud glass building Harry was used to seeing, the picture showed what looked like half the building destroyed. Harry fell to his knees clutching his head.

"Harry! Are yeh alright? What's wrong?" He heard Hagrid ask, but Harry ignored him. Like a dam breaking, Harry was suddenly deluged with memories of what had happened yesterday. Dumbledore! What had he done to him? Harry didn't want to go to Hogwarts, but he didn't want to put anyone in danger. He would have to pretend like everything was alright. Oh this was bad, so bad. But he also realized that he now had a small advantage. Dumbledore probably didn't expect Harry to break through his memory charm. But he would have to play a dangerous game with one of the world's most powerful people. He shakily got to his feet and gave Hagrid a tenuous smile. "Just a headache, are we almost there?" Hagrid clapped him over his shoulder, nearly forcing him to his knees again. "I always find a good pint of ice cream helps me when I'm feeling down! Tell yeh what, we'll stop by old Fortescues fer a bite. How's that sound?" Harry smiled tightly, trying to bite down his sudden urge to run away from anyone associated with Dumbledore. "Sounds good Hagrid!"

They finally reached the leaky cauldron, and they passed through to Diagon Alley without a hitch. "Thought we might have a few problems cause yer right famous Harry, but nobody seems ter recognize yeh. Everyone thought yeh'd look like more like yer dad, not so, ehh.. girl like." Harry was almost offended at being compared to a girl, but thought twice. Almost every girl he had ever met was far more pleasant than the boys. All his friends, Grace, Sofia, were girls, whereas his bullies, Dudley and Tony, were boys. But then again, Petunia was a girl, and she had been downright nasty at times. In the end, he decided to take it as a compliment, and he voiced as much to Hagrid. Hagrid gave him a funny look "If yeh say so Harry, just need ter stop by Gringotts, Hogwarts business."

Together they entered the goblin run bank, and after stopping by Harry's vault to get some galleons, they came to vault seven hundred and thirteen. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole, and only a small grubby package. Harry watched closely and noted the exact pocket that Hagrid had stuffed the package into. "What was in that package you picked up Hagrid?" Harry asked as they walked out of the bank a few minutes later. "Can't tell yeh that. Very secret. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that." Hagrid fished out a few galleons from his coat and handed them to Harry. "Here. Go get yerself an ice cream from Fortescues down the alley. I'm gonna' slip off for a pick me up at the leaky cauldron. I hate them Gringotts carts. I'll meet yeh when yer done with yer shoppin' and everythin' else." Without another word, Hagrid set off for the pub, but Harry didn't move.

What was so secret that Dumbledore had to have Hagrid pick it up from the bank? Harry realized that Hagrid was big, and not someone easily subdued, but it couldn't have been _that_ secret, or Dumbledore would have picked it up himself. He definitely wouldn't have sent someone who stands out like Hagrid in broad daylight. Harry shook his head, did Dumbledore take Harry for a fool? No. More likely, he probably thought Harry would still be under the influence of a memory charm. The only logical reason Harry could think to send someone like Hagrid to pick up anything, was if what you were picking up needed to be protected, but only from someone with no significant magical abilities, someone like Harry. But what secrets about Harry would Dumbledore keep in a bank vault? There was only one way to find out, so Harry set off to follow Hagrid to the leaky cauldron.

Hagrid wasn't hard to find, he was quite large, and he was the only one drinking ale out of a bucket. Harry stood hidden in the smoky shadows of the pub, trying to figure out a plan to liberate Hagrid of the mysterious package. There was no way he could take it by force, so that left only stealth. Harry did have some experience with pick-pocketing, Dudley never noticed if half the money he had been given as allowance went missing, he just asked for more. It was a skill that had come in handy whenever Harry had been denied meals. But Hagrid was bigger than Dudley, if only by a bit, and much more potentially dangerous. Suddenly, a lady sitting with a man at a small table burst into tears and stormed out of the pub. And while everyone was giving the miserable looking man who had been sitting with her pitying looks, Harry was struck with inspiration.

He ran up to Hagrid and seized him around the waist in a bear hug. Hagrid was so surprised, his bucket of ale went flying, absolutely drenching a man who had been passing by. Harry did his best impression of Dudley fake crying, and in the chaos, Hagrid never noticed Harry's hand slip into his big coat and pull out the small package before pocketing it. Eventually, Hagrid seemed to regain his bearings, and pulled Harry off him. "What's the matter Harry? What are yeh blubberin' fer?" Harry instantly stopped sobbing, and had to try hard not smile victoriously. "I dropped my ice cream!" He said, and he had to bury his face in his hands to muffle his laughter. "Oh that's a right shame, here, go get yerself another, it's on me!" Hagrid handed Harry a couple more galleons, and Harry gave a huge smile. It had been almost too easy.

"Hagrid you absolute dunderhead! You've soaked me with that rubbish you call a drink." Harry looked around, and saw the man that Hagrid had spilled his ale onto. The first word that came to mind was bat. The second was shampoo. A man wearing all black with greasy hair and a crooked nose stood facing Hagrid with an absolutely livid expression on his face, dripping wet with ale. "Professor Snape! Real sorry 'bout that! Harry here just surprised me is all." The man turned to Harry and his eyebrows shot up into greasy hairline. He turned pale like he had seen a ghost, "L.l..lily?" He asked in a shaky whisper. Hagrid clapped Harry onto his shoulder, making his knees buckle slightly. "'Fraid yer a bit confused Professor. But I can see why yeh'd be, Mr. Potter here looks just like his mother he does." Harry almost asked if the man was okay, because as soon as he heard the word Potter, instantly his face changed to one of disgust. "Don't let this inflate your big head Potter. There won't be any special celebrity treatment from me," the man spat. With a last venomous look at Harry, the man swept off out of the pub, like some overgrown bat out of hell.

"Don't mind him, Professor Snape is just short tempered is all. Go finish yer shoppin' and I'll meet yeh ter get yer wand. Still have ter get yeh a birthday present as well." Harry just nodded and left to actually start his shopping, but he wondered why that man seemed to hate him so much, or how he knew his mother. When he finally finished shopping for everything besides his wand, it finally hit him what he had done, and he felt shocked that he had actually managed to pull that off. Harry felt the large bulge in his pocket, and confirmed that he still had the package. Taking a look around to make sure nobody was watching, Harry stepped into a side alley and opened the package. But instead of secret documents about Harry like he had been expecting, his emerald eyes were met with the sight of a big ruby red stone. It gleamed in the sunshine, and Harry felt a strange humming vibration coming from it. Hearing someone coming, he quickly pocketed the stone again.

"Harry! There yeh are! Been lookin' all over for yeh! what are yeh doin' in Knockturn?" Hagrid was standing at the entrance to the side alley Harry had gone down. Harry looked around and he realized that the alley he was standing in was quite dark and foreboding, even in broad daylight. Many shop windows were boarded up, and it seemed abandoned. "Sorry, just took a wrong turn." Harry said, and quickly walked back the way he came and joined Hagrid. Hagrid gave Harry a funny look again, "S'alright. Happens ter everyone. I got yeh a present." Chirp! Harry looked up and saw a beautiful snowy white owl peering at him with amber eyes. "She's beautiful! Thanks Hagrid!" And this time, the hug Harry gave Hagrid was genuine.

A few minutes of small talk later, found Harry inside Ollivanders. Hagrid had gone for another pint, and Harry was alone once more, this time in a wand shop. The shop seemed to be empty, and the light that filtered in through the dusty windows gave the place an eerie atmosphere. "Good afternoon," said a soft voice from behind him, making Harry jump about a foot in the air. Turning around, he was met with the sight of a white haired man. He had gray pupils, but not like the ones Lucas had, these were the kind of gray you might see in a blind person's eyes. "Hello." said Harry awkwardly, trying his best not be creeped out by those unblinking eyes. "Ah Yes, Mr. Potter. I've been expecting you. You don't look like you're supposed to look. Everyone said you'd look just like your father, but with your mother's eyes. Your actual appearance is quite different. Curious, very curious."

The unblinking man moved around the counter and spent a few seconds staring at the shelves lined with small rectangular boxes before he pulled one out and brought it to the counter. "Your mother favored a willow wand. Ten and a quarter inches, swishy, nice for charm work. Seems like only yesterday she was in here buying her first wand. Yes… Lily Potter was a beautiful woman. Very beautiful indeed. I wonder…" The man pulled the wand out of the box and handed it to Harry. It was a pure white color, completely straight and smooth, but with a sharp edge at the tip. "Twelves inches exactly. Willow. Veela Hair." As soon as Harry's fingers closed around the wand, he felt it.

His ruby red hair pulled out of the clips he usually kept it pinned up in, and was blown upwards in a gravity defying direction. Harry's normally sparkling emerald green eyes became tinted with spots of gold, and he felt an enormous surge of warmth spread throughout his body. He gave the wand a wave, and a massive column of scorching hot fire erupted from it, instantly incinerating a few shelves to ashes. But just as quickly as the fire started, it ended, and Harry suddenly was feeling very drained. He turned to the wand maker and saw the man staring even more intensely than normal. "Curiouser and curiouser…" the unblinking wand maker whispered before starting to box up Harry's wand. "Sorry, what's curious?" Harry couldn't help but ask. The wand maker finished wrapping up Harry's wand and turned back to Harry. "Very rarely do I manage to ascertain the correct wand for a customer on my first try. The few times I have, it was never because of a lack of power, oh no, just the opposite. Every time a customer had a wand choose them on the first try, it was because their power was so overwhelming, that no wand other than the chosen wand dared to place itself before them. One other wizard who matched on their first try went on to do great things. Terrible, but great. And that very wizard gave you that scar." Harry felt a shiver go down his spine. "A word to the wise Mr. Potter, the core of a wand often reflects key attributes of our own nature. Your wand is no exception. That will be seven galleons." Harry nodded, paid, and left in a hurry.

The next day found Harry standing in front of a scarlet steam engine on platform nine and three quarters. The Goldsteins had just left, having come to see him and Anthony off. Anthony was acting stranger than ever. He had stopped speaking to Harry entirely, and he had dyed his hair blonde. Harry didn't really care though, if anything, it was an improvement to get the silent treatment from Tony. Grace had given him a big teary hug, and made him promise to write. Like always, Harry couldn't deny her, so he had promised her he would. He sighed, without Grace, Harry was once more alone. He still wasn't sure what to think of what Dumbledore had told him about Sofia.

Part of him desperately wanted to think Dumbledore was lying. But the more logical part of him couldn't deny the sense it made. It wasn't normal for a college student to befriend a small child after all, and Sofia had been there for him at the most convenient of times. But Harry refused to cast judgement on someone who couldn't speak in their own defense. He would continue his work on getting a cure for Sofia, and if it turned out that Dumbledore had been telling the truth, well he would cross that bridge when he got there. Dragging his luggage behind him, Harry set about finding an empty compartment.

Toward the back of the train, Harry found one, and he tucked away his luggage. Not a second later, the train blew one final whistle before it gave a lurch, and they were off. Harry was still very unsettled about going to Hogwarts. He had thought about telling the Goldsteins about how Dumbledore had blackmailed him, but dismissed the idea. If he got his adopted family involved, that would only put them in danger. No, Harry would have to figure this one out on his own.

As he started out the window and saw the red autumn leaves of the forest passing by, he was reminded of something else red. Harry had been very confused as to why a big rock had needed such security, but all the same deduced that it must have been something important for Dumbledore. And any advantage Harry could get over Dumbledore was something he would take. Harry didn't trust the old man not to search through his personal possessions, so last night, while everyone else was sleeping, Harry had buried the ruby stone in the forest at The Sandbank. Harry knew there were extensive wards surrounding the island, and that nobody besides blood family could come to The Sandbank without permission. Whatever it was, Harry intended to find out as soon as possible.

SLAM! The compartment door was thrown open without warning, and in walked a gangly ginger boy. He had dirt on his nose, and there were bits of food down the front of his shirt. "Do you mind if I sit here, everywhere else is…" But the ginger stopped mid sentence. He was ogling Harry with a dazed expression. Harry had decided to wear his hair down, being in a bit of a rush to finish packing that morning, but he was starting to regret that decision. The ginger boy actually started to drool, and it wasn't until Harry slapped him across the face that he came back to his senses. "What was that for? Who do you think you are huh?" he asked in a high pitched squeal. The boy's ears turned bright red, and he looked a second away from attacking Harry. "I'm Harry Potter, and you are?" Instantly, the boys entire demeanor changed, and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "You are? Oh can I sit with you? I'm Ron Weas.." But Harry cut him off. "No, sorry I'm expecting others, we're full." The boy looked ready to argue, but Harry pulled out his wand and said in a whisper, emerald eyes blazing, "I said, we're full." The ginger left in a rush after that.

A little while later, a buck toothed girl with frizzy hair had asked if he had seen a toad. And when Harry said he hadn't, she had then bossily ordered him to put on his school robes, even though they weren't even halfway there. Harry had slammed the door in her face. A second boy with blonde hair like Tony had heard about how Harry had told off the ginger, and had been delighted. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." The blonde boy had said before offering Harry his hand. And Harry shook it, seeing no harm in having a few allies.

Before Harry knew it, they had gotten off the train, and Hagrid was there guiding the first years to boats. Harry got in one with the blonde boy from the train, a pink-faced girl with pigtails, and a sniffling boy clutching a toad. As they were gliding across the lake in the moonlight, the glass-like surface of the water sparkled and reflected the majestic castle towering above them. They were met at a pair of great oak doors by a very stern looking woman. Harry thought she looked like someone who would get mad at you for breathing too loudly. She gave them an informing speech about the four Hogwarts houses, and then told them to "smarten up," but her gaze lingered longer than anywhere else on the ginger boy who still had dirt on his nose. As soon as she left, the same boy openly speculated that they were going to fight trolls as a method of being sorted, and some ghosts made a few people scream. A few minutes, the stern woman returned, and they were led inside toward the back of a long hall where four tables were placed vertically, and one on a raised platform horizontally. Harry heard the bossy girl from the train talk about how she read in _Hogwarts: A History, _that the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside. "Bloody know it all" he had whispered to her, and smiled when she threw him a dirty look. When they finally reached the back of the hall, they saw an ancient looking filthy hat sitting on a stool just in front of the horizontal table. It promptly broke into song.

The hall broke into applause after it finished, and Harry had to give the hat credit, it was a nice song. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," the severe looking witch said. "Abbott, Hannah!" The pink-faced girl who sat with Harry in the boat bounced forward. "HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted after a moment, and Abbott joined the table on the right to a big round of applause. Harry then tuned out most of the rest of the sorting. Anthony was made Ravenclaw. The blonde boy who Harry had shaken hands with - Malfoy was his name - was almost instantly made a Slytherin. Surprisingly, the toad boy was made a Gryffindor. The annoying ginger joined toad boy, but even more surprisingly, so did the know it all. Finally, "Potter, Harry," was called, and Harry calmly walked up to the stool, ignoring the whispers that suddenly broke out. "_He's_ Harry Potter? I thought that was a girl!" someone said. "Isn't Potter supposed to have black hair?" Harry heard another, but he ignored them and walked up to the stool and promptly put the hat on his head. The last thing he saw being a hall full of people rubbernecking to see him.

"Hmmm. Difficult.. Very Difficult.."Harry heard a voice whispering in his ear he assumed to be the hat. "There's talent, oh yes. Intelligence on another level. And a thirst to prove yourself. But what's this? Now that's interesting. An unbreakable loyalty to your friends? Not afraid to work hard for your goals? And fair minded to boot. I know exactly where to put you… HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted the last word, and the hall went silent.

A/N: Much longer than normal, took me a few days to write, but I wanted to progress to this point. Leave a review and let me know how much you appreciate my hard work please. Now, I know what you're thinking. Hufflepuff? How could you Mymumisgay! Harry's clearly a Ravenclaw! But I disagree with you. Harry is very smart, but that's not a defining characteristic. Maybe you think he's more Slytherin, since he did pull some cunning moves. But again, cunning doesn't define Harry. He uses his intelligence to his advantage, and cunning to achieve his ends when hard work isn't enough. But Harry is more a Hufflepuff than many people give credit for. Harry is loyal to his friends through and through, and he not once balks at insurmountable odds, indicative of a hard worker. And he never judges people for what they can't control. Think I'm wrong? Leave a review! There may have been some "bashing" in this chapter, if you wanna call it that. I prefer to think of it as negative character development. And yes, I split up the trio. Cry over it why don't you. But it's only temporary, the big plot twist about school that I mentioned in last chapter's note still hasn't come. You'll have to follow to find out what happens next :)


	8. Chapter 8: The Great Escape

Chapter 8: The Great Escape

Harry took off the hat, hopped off the stool, and headed to the table on the right. After a few long moments of silence, the Hufflepuff table finally seemed to shake off their shock and burst into wild cheers and thunderous applause. As Harry sat down next to the girl he had been on the boat with, Hannah Abbott, he noticed that many of the adults sitting at the head table had slackened jaws and wide eyes. One witch with flyaway gray hair spat out the pumpkin juice she had been sipping, leaving the greasy haired man sitting next to her sopping wet and looking quite irate.

A few students later, the sorting was done, and Dumbledore got to his feet. "I'd like to say a few words. And here they are: Neutral! Balance! Order! Trouble! Thank you!" A few people laughed, but Harry wasn't sure what to think. He turned to the girl next to him and offered his hand. "Harry Potter, it's Abbott right?" The girl shook his hand and smiled shyly. "Yeah, but my friends call me Hannah." Harry laughed, and Hannah's pink face turned red. "Think my name's funny do you?" But Harry quickly shook his head. "No, I'm just thinking about what the headmaster said, He's either a genius or absolutely mad." Harry smiled kindly. "But I like your name, I think it's pretty." Hannah's face turned a different shade of red at that.

Over the course of the meal, it seemed the entire castle came over to shake Harry's hand and introduce themselves. One boy with freckles seemed particularly pleased to meet Harry. "I couldn't believe my ears when they called your name, but it's really you! It's an honor to meet you Doctor!" That raised a few eyebrows from the people listening. The boy looked at them in surprise "What you mean you guys didn't know? This is the famous Doctor Harry Potter! I'd recognize him anywhere, my mum's always going on about how I should be more like him, half the reason I was going to Eton before I got my letter."

A ginger girl who introduce her self as Susan Bones, spoke up, "What are you talking about Fletchley? Harry Potter is famous for taking down You-Know-Who, not for being a muggle healer." As the two started to argue about what Harry was famous for, Harry decided to step in "You're both right Actually, I'm known in the muggle world for my work as a Doctor, and I'm known in the wizarding world for my defeat of You-Know-Who." Harry got even more attention after that little comment.

He was just biting into a turkey leg when someone tapped him on his shoulder. Harry looked around and saw it was the bossy girl from the train. "You're the one everyone is saying is the great Doctor Harry Potter?" she asked. Harry looked her up and down, her whole posture screamed skepticism and disbelief. Arms folded and eyes narrowed, she looked one wrong answer away from snapping. "Yeah that's right." Harry began slowly. "What's it to you?" The buck-toothed girl's eyes narrowed further. "Well it's just that that's impossible. I read about the explosion in London, you're supposed to be dead!"

It suddenly became very quiet, and Harry could feel the eyes of hundreds of people on his back, and he knew this was a make or break moment for his reputation. Harry put on his best winning smile, which to his delight, made the irritating girl blush. He said in a smooth voice "I assure you miss, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." There was silence for a few seconds, then people burst into laughter.

But the frizzy haired girl didn't know when to quit, and the laughter didn't seem to deter her. "Oh very clever Mr. Twain, did you come up with that one all on your own? You know it's very irresponsible to just let people assume you're dead! You should write in to the paper right now and let people know you're still alive!" Again it got quiet, and people looked to Harry, waiting for him to deliver a _coup-de-grace_. Harry delivered. He started nodding and scratched his chin like he was thinking hard about what the bossy girl suggested. "You know what, I think your right! I'll just get out a some ink and write to a _muggle _newspaper about how I'm not actually dead, just attending a magic school for wizards!" The laughter was twice as loud this time, and the girl couldn't ignore it anymore. She threw her hands up in frustration and stormed off.

Eventually, the meal came to an end and the first years were escorted out of the hall to their common rooms by one of the older students. Harry somehow ended up at the front of the group, followed closely by Fletchley, Abbott, and the rest of the new badgers. They descended downwards in the castle for a while before reaching a stack of barrels tucked away in a corner. Their escort tapped the barrels while humming a tune and they all gasped as the barrels cleared away, and a round door was revealed in the wall. It opened, and they were led through the door and into the coziest, homiest room Harry had ever seen.

The Hufflepuff common room was a warm and inviting place, even in the chilly autumn evening. A huge roaring circular stone fireplace chased away the dreary draftiness of the hallways. And many, many potted plants along with big open circular windows showing the night sky, gave the whole place a natural earthy feeling. The older student who had escorted them, a short and chubby girl with waist length ebony hair, turned to address them. "Welcome to Hufflepuff, I'm your fifth year prefect, Melissa Stonebank. If you have any questions, or need help with something, you can come to me or any of the other prefects." Just then the round door opened again, and in walked the squat witch with flyaway gray hair that Harry had seen spit out her pumpkin juice.

"Thank you Melissa, I can take it from here." Seeing her up close for the first time, Harry noticed that she was absolutely covered in dirt. At the feast, Harry had just assumed that she had a naturally brown skin tone. But as evidenced by the bits of earth that went flying every time the witch moved too swiftly, that obviously was not the case. She moved besides the prefect and started speaking "I apologize for the mess, there's always lots of planting to do every year before classes start. But enough about that, I am Professor Sprout, your head of House Hufflepuff, and Professor of Herbology here at Hogwarts." She paused and looked over the first years, spending more time looking at Harry than anyone else. "Yes, always good to see some new, fresh faces in Hufflepuff. Sadly, Hufflepuff House has something of a reputation for being the house of mediocrity. Maybe you'll be the year this changes." She looked away from Harry.

"But make no mistake, reputation aside, I expect nothing but the best from my badgers. I don't expect perfection, but here in the house of hard-workers, nothing less than one hundred percent effort, one hundred percent of the time, is mandatory." She clapped her hands together, sending a big cloud of dirt their way, and making a few people break into coughing fits. She pulled out her wand, which looked like a twig, and dispelled the cloud with a swish. "Sorry about that. I really need a shower. I'll hand out your schedules at breakfast tomorrow, but for now just remember: Once a badger, always a badger, and badgers always stick together."

After a few last minute instructions about how to find their way to the great hall in the morning from Prefect Stonebank, they were released for bed. The Hufflepuff dormitory had the same cozy feeling as the common room. There were three four-poster beds covered in patchwork quilts, and the walls were decorated with rows of badger pennants. Semi-circle windows shined moonlight into the dorms, and a big black and yellow circular rug lay in the center of the room.

Harry was joined in his dorm by Fletchley, and a scruffy stout boy. "Can't believe I'm sharing a dorm with Harry Potter. My mum's going to go nuts. The name's MacMillan, but call me Ernie. Blimey, thought you'd be Gryffindor for sure." the boy said. Harry politely shook his hand but said nothing. He was starting to get the impression that people had expected him to be in any house except Hufflepuff. Did people really have that low of an opinion of Hufflepuff? No matter what, that would change, Harry vowed. He would not stand to see people dismiss his house as inconsequential. Even if it was only until he figured out how to get out of here, Harry would make a name for himself as a Hufflepuff not to be trifled with. He tucked himself in and rolled over. Feeling bone tired from the long day, Harry quickly became drowsy and fell asleep.

The next day Harry started classes, and he took to them like a fish to water. It was easy, all they had to do was memorize chapters out of textbooks, and then regurgitate it their own words. Harry had plenty of experience with this type of school work, so it was a breeze. If anything, Harry found the professors themselves to be more interesting than the material they were teaching. Harry only wished they wouldn't single him out.

On Monday, they had Professor McGonagall, the head of House Gryffindor, and the severe, thin lipped witch who had done their sorting. She also appeared to be holding a grudge against Harry. What for, Harry had no idea, but he suspected it was because she wasn't happy about his sorting. She had spent half the class lecturing them about the serious dangers of transfiguration magic, and then spent the second half advising them to "work smarter, not harder." The Ravenclaws they shared the class with had particularly enjoyed that, and had thrown smug looks their way the entire time. The Hufflepuffs however, were left bristling, and Harry was sure it was no accident. But if he thought the head of Gryffindor was bad, she was nothing compared to the head of Slytherin.

On Tuesday they had Professor Snape's potions class, and it was absolutely dreadful. The class looked interesting on paper, and Harry had actually read ahead in their assigned textbooks. He was amazed by the almost limitless applications that potions could have. But like any subject, the teacher could make or break the course. Harry had been caught off guard when Professor Snape had paused at his name when reading the attendance and made a snide remark about "our new celebrity." He had certainly not expected that he would be tested on his knowledge on the first day. And he was sure that if he hadn't read ahead, he would have been humiliated in front of the whole class.

So when Snape had asked Harry if he knew where he could find a bezoar, he had taken savage pleasure in answering. "Well, Arsenius Jigger wrote in chapter thirty two of _Magical Drafts and Potions _that any _competent_ potions _master_ would keep several on their person at any time." Harry paused and threw a smug grin at the gaping Ravenclaws who were watching in astonishment. "But I suppose you already knew that, didn't you Journeyman Potioneer Snape?" Not for the first time, Harry had been almost physically thrown out of class, but the damage was done. By lunchtime, the whole school was in an uproar. Rumors were flying that Aurors had come and arrested Snape, and everyone wanted to know what happened.

Practically, there was almost zero difference between a journeyman potioneer and a potions master. But as anyone who had read _Hogwarts: A History_ knew, only masters of any given subject could teach as a professor at the castle. In fact, there was even a law against it, with a mandatory nine month sentence in Azkaban prison if caught teaching without a mastery.

After Harry's less than pleasant first encounter with the greasy man, he had done a little bit of research into the man's background, and had requested his public records from the Ministry of Magic. Turns out, being famous did have it's benefits after all. Harry had received not only the man's public records, but the sealed ones as well. Files that he technically shouldn't have had access to, only minutes after sending his request. Harry had been astonished to find out a convicted terrorist had been hired to teach school children, but the attached official pardon from Chief Warlock Dumbledore explained that.

Looking back, Harry should have guessed that the man would be unpleasant. But Harry hadn't wanted to judge a person's entire character based off a two minute encounter. Harry had reasonably thought that he would have been upset too if he had been dunked in a bucket of ale. But the criminal record really should have been enough of a clue to tip him off. Maybe Dumbledore was right, Harry had been too naive in his unassuming disposition. When Snape had attempted to humiliate Harry, he shouldn't have been so surprised. It was only his quick thinking that saved him. He had thought about bringing up the criminal record. But Harry had deduced that even if people believed him over Dumbledore - an unlikely prospect - nothing would come of it. Dumbledore had pardoned the greasy bat, so he would get off scot-free. It had been a stroke of genius to instead raise the mastery technicality. And as he sat at the lunch table, surrounded by his year mates regaling how he had done it, they didn't shy away from voicing their admiration.

"That was positively brilliant Harry!" Susan Bones praised after he finished his tale. "My auntie was actually laughing she was so happy! And auntie Amelia never laughs!" she said. "So it's true then? Professor Snape actually got arrested?" asked Ernie. Before Susan could answer though, an older student stepped into the circle of first-years surrounding Harry. He was tall with chiseled features and wavy blonde hair. "Oh it's true alright." the tall boy began. "I don't know how you pulled it off Potter, but my congratulations. You make Hufflepuff proud." He reached out and seized Harry's hand. "Cedric Diggory, at your service." Harry glanced at his friends, but they seemed just as confused as him. "Diggory is it? How do you know it's true? I was not expecting the ministry to act so quickly... you know what they say about government efficiency." Cedric gave a roguish grin, and Harry thought he heard sighing from down the table where the older students sat.

"You underestimate just how many parents and former students Snape has pissed off over the years that now work for the ministry. When they want to, the ministry can be quite efficient. Snape has had this coming for years, you were just the spell that broke the dragon's hide. Saw him get escorted out of the castle myself, it was glorious." Harry thought that made sense, and started turning away, seeing nothing else to discuss. "Glad I could help, I'll see you around I guess." Cedric laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "Not so fast Potter, you know I didn't come over here for idle chat, as much fun as it's been." Cedric started looking Harry up and down. "You have the right build… say Potter, you ever flown on a broom?" Harry shook his head. "Mrs. Goldstein said I was too young." Cedric did a double take at that and glanced over to the Ravenclaw table. Tony was sitting there by himself, reading a book and eating a bagel.

"What do the Goldsteins… You know what, it doesn't matter. If you're half as good as your old man, you'll be amazing. Come to the quidditch pitch Thursday morning, and we'll see what you can do. We're short a chaser this year, and I really don't feel like holding tryouts. I know it's not technically allowed for first-years to play on the house team, but if you're good enough, Professor Sprout will make an exception. Remember Thursday morning. Be there Potter." Message delivered, Diggory walked off. Harry looked to his scuffed watch, but noticed it had stopped working. Weird, he had just gotten a new battery as well.

Assuming lunch was almost over, he tried to wolf down some eggs, only to notice his year mates were staring at him in amazement again. He swallowed a glass of pumpkin juice and cleared his throat. "Look guys, I know he was an arse, but I really didn't do anything that amazing. Like Diggory said, I just tipped the scales. Professor Snape had it coming." They continued staring, but when Harry started to squirm, Ernie had pity on him. "It's not that Harry, well that was amazing too, but it's what Diggory just offered you. Blimey Harry, if you get a spot on the House team, you'll be the youngest chaser in.. in…" "In three centuries! Gee Harry, your dad must have been incredible to get Diggory to skip holding tryouts." Hannah finished for him. Harry only nodded vaguely and swallowed a lump in his throat that had nothing to do with the eggs he was scarfing down.

An owl delivered Harry a note from Hagrid asking to meet for tea, but he declined. Harry was planning to avoid the caretaker until he could figure out what the big red stone was that Hagrid had picked up from the bank. As soon as he got a chance, Harry was planning on visiting the library to research the matter. But Harry mainly wanted to go to the library to see if there were any schematics of the castle. He was hoping that maybe there were some lesser known exits that he could use in an escape attempt.

Technically, Harry could just walk out the front door. But he knew as soon as he walked out the gates, Dumbledore would come for the Goldsteins, and Harry wanted to avoid that at all costs. He needed time to warn his adopted family, and he could only do that if nobody noticed him leave. He couldn't count on Hedwig - his snowy owl - not to be intercepted, so Harry decided to try to lull the headmaster into a false sense of security. Dumbledore would probably expect Harry to try to escape now. He still didn't know his memory charm had failed, but he would be on guard. Maybe playing quidditch would give the impression that Harry had accepted his lot here at Hogwarts. He would need allies though. Harry wouldn't make it past his four poster curtains if he tried it alone.

Their remaining classes were thankfully more fair. Charms with Professor Flitwick was Harry's favorite by far. Harry seemed to have a natural talent in the subject, and he beamed whenever the short professor compared him to his mother, who Harry learned had been a legendary charms master in her own right. Defence Against the Dark Arts was a joke. Professor Quirrel couldn't put two words together without stuttering, so Harry just self-studied in that class. Herbology with their head of house was fun, and Harry had a great time splattering his friends with fists full of mud. It was worth every point.

Before he knew it, it was Thursday morning, and Harry was standing out on the quidditch pitch, shivering from the cold. Cedric joined him after a few minutes, and he was carrying a big wooden crate. "Morning Potter." Cedric greeted. "Did we really have to meet at the crack of dawn?" Harry complained, and was promptly whacked over the side of the head. "Enough of that Potter, I'm giving you a real honor here, practically handing you the chaser spot. A lot of people would kill to be in your position. Quite literally." Harry gave Cedric a mischievous smile. "You wouldn't kill me would you Ceddy old buddy old pal would you?" Cedric opened the crate and pulled out a big red leather ball. "Call me Ceddy again and I just might, so listen up." Harry gave an exaggerated salute and Cedric rolled his eyes. "This is the quaffle. It's the only thing you need to worry about. Your first job as chaser is to throw this ball past the enemy keeper, that's the person guarding the goals, into the goals as many times as possible. Your secondary duty is to prevent the other chasers from getting possession of the quaffle. Score fifteen times and we win. Got it?" Harry nodded, it seemed simple enough.

Cedric clapped his hands together and pulled something else out that Harry hadn't seen before. "This is my broom, a nimbus 1700. You'll be using this today when I test you, and I'll be using a school broom. Course, if your as good as I think you'll be, you'll get a brand new nimbus 2000. Been a few decades since Hufflepuff had a chance at winning the house cup, and I reckon Professor Sprout could be easily persuaded to buy you one." He tossed Harry his broom. "Now, show me what you got Potter!" What followed was some of the best moments of Harry's life. Harry was already unnaturally graceful on the ground, but in the air, Harry put ballerinas to shame. He had never felt anything so freeing, so liberating, so exhilarating, that even came close to the experience of flying. It was the most natural thing in the world for him, and Harry performed complicated corkscrews motions and twisting passing maneuvers with ease.

After a few hours of this, Cedric called him down. "Potter get down here!" Harry dove straight down from fifty feet in the air, and came to a gentle landing just in front of Cedric. "Merlin's beard Harry! That was amazing! I've never seen flying like that before, and I've seen professionals in the World Cup!" Cedric seemed ecstatic and he was blabbering on about how they had the cup in the bag, but Cedric's happiness was nothing compared to Harry's. Harry was positively giddy, he felt drunk with happiness, and he couldn't stop giggling. Cedric wrapped Harry in a bear hug, and Harry was so happy, he didn't even mind. "Congrats Potter! You're the new chaser for Hufflepuff, but don't tell anyone. You're our secret weapon."

Amazingly, no one found out that Harry was the new chaser, and over the next few months, the Hufflepuff quidditch team steam rollered their way to victory after victory. Harry's elegance in the air quickly became legendary at Hogwarts. He was simply unguardable. It didn't matter if the opposing captain assigned every other player except the keeper to quintuple-team him, as Slytherin had tried once, Harry would effortlessly outmaneuver them every time. Once Harry had the quaffle, he was unstoppable. So much so, Harry broke the record for most points scored by a chaser in a single game - four hundred and twenty. A record set by his dad.

And it wasn't just on the quidditch pitch where Harry was excelled either. He was top of his year academically too. Professor Flitwick was convinced he was a charms prodigy, so he had started assigning Harry more advanced work. Professor McGonagall too, perhaps cowed by what had happened to Professor Snape, was nicer now, and had decided Harry was too advanced for first year material. Professor Sprout, being the professor of the closest subject, was the replacement potions professor. And she too was convinced that Harry had too much potential to waste on beginner material. Harry didn't mind, he was happy to be advanced early, but there was one person who wasn't happy about it. The only other student who came close to his amazing academic record, and it wasn't really a comparison, was the frizzy haired buck tooth girl - Hermione Granger. Despite his best efforts to prevent it, Harry had established something of a strange friendship with the girl. Granger was the only person who spent more time in the library than Harry did. She had accepted that Harry was _the _Harry Potter, but Harry wished she was still a skeptic.

She seemed to think that because Harry was a doctor, he was obligated to listen to her long winded complaining stories about how Gryffindors didn't study enough, and about how it wasn't fair that she wasn't allowed to take advanced material as well. Harry didn't have the heart to tell her to get lost. The girl didn't have many friends, and Harry was afraid she might snap if Harry refused to let her sit with him to study, so he mostly just ignored her. Unlike Granger though, Harry didn't spend time in the library to study for his classes, he instead spent his time pouring over dusty maps and diagrams of the castle. Harry had never lost sight of his goal to escape Hogwarts. The only problem was Hogsmeade. Harry needed a way to get from the castle, to Hogsmeade, unnoticed, so that he could floo to The sandbank. Harry was pretty sure that Dumbledore monitored the fireplaces in the castle, so he needed to floo from outside of it. And Hogsmeade was the closest place that was possible. One day while going through the countless maps in the library archive, he came across a signature that threatened to bring tears to his eyes. There signed on as the last person to checkout a slowly disintegrating old map, was a signature in a messy scrawl very similar to Harry's own handwriting. _James Potter._

He pulled the map off the shelf, slowly opened it, and shouted "Eureka!" Unfortunately, that brought Granger over, and Harry quickly regretted his loss of composure. "What is it Harry? What have you found?" Harry quickly stuffed the map behind his back. "What have I told you about addressing me so familiarly, Granger? We are not on a first name basis!" Granger was slowly backing Harry into a corner. "Come off it Harry! What'd you find? It better not be something to help you cheat... I bet that's how you're doing better than me..." Harry didn't respond, because he was too busy trying to come with an excuse to leave, but that only seemed to raise the girls suspicions. "I knew it! Give it here or I'll go to McGonagall." This was getting out of hand. Harry needed something to throw her off. He threw an accusatory finger toward her. "That's it isn't it! McGonagall put you up to this didn't she? This whole time you were only here as a spy!" That Granger stopped in her tracks. "What? No! How could you think that Harry! I thought we were friends!" Harry grimly shook his head, he didn't like what he was about to do, but it was necessary. "You should have thought about that before you decided to betray me Granger!" She was so stunned, she didn't react as Harry scooted around her and ran off out of the library. Granger tried to give chase, but Harry was faster, and he quickly lost his tail.

When he got to his dorm, Harry shut his curtains and sealed them with a sticking charm. Fully opening the map, Harry gave a sigh of relief. It was completely worth it. This map not only showed all the many halls and rooms in the castle, but also secret passages that cut through everywhere, including outside the grounds. Most importantly, Harry found a passage that led straight from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. It was on the third floor, and was a straight shot from the castle, to the smack in the middle of Hogsmeade. Now he had an escape route, all he needed now was a distraction. A really big distraction. Something big enough to distract everyone, including Dumbledore. He also needed someone to do it for him. Harry's first thought was to ask one of his Hufflepuff friends, but he dismissed the idea. They would be the first suspects. Harry needed someone nobody would suspect, someone not easily interrogated. Someone not in Hufflepuff. A light bulb went off in Harry's head. He knew just who to ask.

Harry found his target the next day at the Slytherin table eating breakfast. "Malfoy!" Harry called as he approached. The blonde boy looked up surprised. He hadn't talked to Harry all year at all except to express his surprise at Harry's sorting. They exchanged greetings in the hall occasionally, but that was it. "Yes Potter? How can I be of service?" he drawled in the way only a Malfoy could do. Harry smiled and sat beside him, making Malfoy's surprised face become more pronounced. Hufflepuffs never sat at the Slytherin table, but Harry wasn't worried. It was still early enough in the morning that people were too tired to care.

"Listen Malfoy, I need you to do me a favor." Malfoy raised one blonde eyebrow. "And here I was thinking you were smarter than the rest of those blockhead badgers." Harry just continued to smile and ignored the jab at his house. He was used to it by now. The good news was that it wasn't as bad as when he had first been sorted. Apparently, getting a hated teacher booted from school in your first week, then breaking records and dominating in quidditch, and finishing it all off with being top of your year academically had the combined effect necessary to change people's perspectives. Hufflepuff was respected now. The badgers had started carrying themselves with more pride, and Harry was something of a hero in his house. Professor Sprout seemed to think he could do no wrong, and was constantly awarding him points for things like "uplifting house spirit" and "making the badger fierce again."

But he waved those thoughts away. Harry knew better than to approach a Slytherin for a favor without offering something in return. "Of course, by doing me this favor, I'll owe you a debt of gratitude, one that I'll repay three time over. Not to mention the compensation I'm offering." Malfoy looked intrigued, and Harry smiled to himself. Game, set, match. "I'm listening," Malfoy said. So Harry proceeded to explain his plan, and how Malfoy could help him. When he had finished, Malfoy took a second to process it before breaking out in a delighted laughter. A few people looked up, but they quickly lost interest when Malfoy glared at them. He turned back to Harry and said "That's a plan worthy of a Slytherin Potter... You can count me in." They shook hands. "Of course, should you fail to follow through…" But Harry cut him off. "I'm a man of my word Malfoy. You keep to your end of the deal, and I'll do the same." Malfoy looked mightily amused. "How you ended up in the duffer house, I'll never understand." Harry just chuckled and got up from the Slytherin table. There was no time for banter, too many things that he needed to prepare for this to work.

The day of the quidditch final had come, and Harry was more nervous than ever. Today was not only the most important quidditch match for Hufflepuff in recent memory, but today was also the day he made his escape. Everything was in place, he just needed to stick to the plan. Hufflepuff already had both the house cup, and the quidditch cup locked in place. Even if they lost this match, they would still win. This was a match more about honor than anything else. If Hufflepuff won, than they would be undefeated champions for the first time in thirty eight years. If they lost to Ravenclaw, they would still win the cup, but Ravenclaw would never let them forget it. And Harry wasn't about to give them that satisfaction.

Announcer Lee Jordan said as much. "And today is an exciting day for House Hufflepuff! Star chaser Harry Potter has lead his team to win after win. Last year Hufflepuff finished last place... But now they're undefeated coming into today's final! The big question everyone's asking: Will Potter be able to pull through for the badgers today? Or will his perfect record be shattered? We'll find out in today's showdown with Ravenclaw!" Madam Hooch made the captain shake hands, and blew the whistle for the game to begin.

It quickly became apparent that Harry was pulling through for the the badgers. Ravenclaw put up a valiant effort, but it was no contest. They even tried taking the keeper off the hoops to put seven players on Harry, but that just made it easier for Harry to score. Harry twirled and spun in the air. It was like a beautiful, magical form of dancing. Except he was on a broom... over a hundred feet above the ground... dodging bludgers and players alike... all without breaking a sweat or slowing down from the top speed his _Nimbus_ _2000_ could go. Harry changed direction so fast, he was a blur to the cheering fans in the stands. True to the Hufflepuff mantra, Harry put in one hundred percent effort, and it showed as played at the top of his game. Just as he scored the shot that would secure them the win, Harry was suddenly bucked off his broom.

Hanging on by one hand, his broom repeatedly tried to buck him off, all the while rising higher and higher until the people in the stands were small dots in the distance. Cedric was hovering just below him, maybe hoping to catch him, but Harry didn't want to risk it. Just as Harry was starting to think only a miracle could save him, he got one. The broom fell under his control again, and he was able to swing up on the broom, scared but safe. He flew down to a safe height, and looked around the crowds to see if he could get a clue as to what what had happened. Professor Quirrel was on fire, and had fallen out of the stands. One of Harry's least favorite professors had tried to kill him. Strangely, that didn't surprise him. What did surprise him, was that Harry saw Granger wave at him sadly while being led away by Dumbledore. Harry put two and two together. He smiled at her and waved back. Harry felt more guilty than ever about their last conversation, and he vowed that he would pay her back.

Eventually, game play resumed, and Cedric swiftly caught the snitch. It was unnecessary with the huge lead that Harry had given them, but perhaps he was afraid that Harry's broom might try to kill again. When Harry finally put two feet on the ground, he was promptly hauled off his broom and tackled in a huge hug by the whole team. When they finally let him go, the cheering black and yellow crowd lifted him off the ground and carried him on their shoulders to Dumbledore. Dumbledore was beaming, and he handed Harry the golden quidditch cup trophy as if nothing could have made him happier. Harry lifted it in the air to earth shaking roars of approval, and despite everything, despite what he was planning, he couldn't help but smile back at the headmaster. Harry handed the trophy to a sobbing Professor Sprout. She pulled Harry into a bear hug to more cheers, and Harry laughed all the way back to castle, feeling lighter than air.

After a party filled morning, the victorious Hufflepuffs shuffled down to lunch. As Harry passed the Slytherin table, he winked at Malfoy, the plan was still on. Harry successfully managed to eat lunch and gracefully accept all the congratulations offered to him without raising suspicion. Not an easy task with all the butterflies in his gut. A few minutes before lunch was set to end, just when he thought Malfoy had decided to back out, he heard a commotion coming from the Gryffindor table. Harry looked over and saw a crowd gathering. Malfoy was arguing with the annoying ginger boy from the train. The crowd did not look to be on Malfoy's side, and when Harry glanced at the Slytherin table, none of them looked bothered by the fact that one of their own was surrounded. They definitely weren't Hufflepuffs. Harry looked up at the staff table, and exactly as he had predicted, there was nobody there. They were either off celebrating the win, or commiserating about the loss.

Harry stood up from the Hufflepuff table, and with a hand motion, he was closely followed by about half his house. Harry was pretty much the _de-facto_ leader of Hufflepuff for third year and below at this point. "Give it here Malfoy!" Harry heard the ginger boy shout when they got close. The boy's face was red, and his fists were clenched. Harry looked around at the crowd. The assembled Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were solidly backing the ginger, slowly forcing Malfoy into a corner. Looking at his Hufflepuff friends who were now following his lead, Harry almost regretted what he was about to do. Almost. He didn't want them to get hurt, but it was a risk he had to take. Casting one last glance around for an adult, but seeing none, Harry sighed. Time to make a statement.

Harry stepped out from the crowd and walked over to stand by Malfoy. He was quickly joined by his friends, and as Harry pulled out his wand, his friends followed suit. Harry's gleaming white wand directly protecting Malfoy. The temperature in the great hall plummeted, and everyone seemed shocked by the turn of events. None more so than Slytherin table, who Harry saw out the corner his eye looked as if hell had frozen over. The crowd of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws gasped in surprise, but they quickly recovered. They pulled out their wands as well, though the Ravenclaws seemed a little more reluctant about the escalation. Harry grinned. All was going to plan.

Seeing their housemates and champion chaser outnumbered, Harry was warmed to see the rest of House Hufflepuff quickly join his side. But not to be outdone, the rest of House Gryffindor and House Ravenclaw joined the side of the ginger boy. For a moment, Harry thought Slytherin might refuse to join the quickly spiraling out of control confrontation, but a signal from Malfoy, and suddenly the entire school was seconds away from civil war. Harry slipped Malfoy a draw-string bag, and whispered "Pleasure doing business with you." Malfoy smiled, but he understandably seemed unnerved having half the schools wands pointed in their direction. "What now?" he whispered back. Harry hesitated, he had not expected the whole school to get involved. But this was a good thing, Harry assured himself. The more people involved, the more time he had. Harry winked "Leave it to me."

Harry stepped out in front of the Hufflepuff-Slytherin side, and said in nonchalant voice, wand held casually in the ginger boy's direction, "Carrot Top! You idiot! What have you done? You're about to start an inter-house war over what?" Harry looked back and saw a remembrall in Malfoy's hands, glowing red. "All this for a remembrall? Typical Gryffindor, always rushing into things without thinking." To Harry's satisfaction, the ginger's wand started sparking. Just a little more. "Potter! How could you side with Malfoy and the Slytherins! You're supposed to be the good guy! You're supposed to be Gryffindor!" he shouted. Harry smiled. It was too easy. "Simple. I'm not a Gryffindor, I'm a Hufflepuff, and Malfoy is my friend. Hufflepuffs stick by their friends regardless of their house." Harry paused and looked back. The badgers were smiling happily, and even the Slytherins were nodding approvingly. So Harry continued "Any attack on Malfoy is an attack on me, which is an attack on House Hufflepuff." The temperature dropped further, but the ginger didn't notice. He was bristling with rage that was just beneath the surface. Time to blow the lid. "But I suppose someone who shares a house with Sirius Black wouldn't know anything about that." Everyone gasped. Even now, the infamous Sirius Black was taboo to mention. The only person more taboo was You-Know-Who himself. More to the point, everybody knew Black had been a Gryffindor. Worse still, everybody knew he was the Potter's supposed betrayer. So for Harry Potter to mention it was an even bigger blow. That did it for the ginger, and the spark was lit. "_Slugulus Eructo" _he shouted. Harry easily twirled away from the curse, but the ginger wasn't so lucky. He was blown away by the volley of answering curses from the Hufflepuff-Slytherin contingent. And just like that, the hall that had been celebrating a great quidditch match five minutes earlier, erupted into chaos.

Harry ducked out unnoticed, and ran out of the hall. He sprinted up the stairs to the third floor and didn't stop sprinting until he got the spot where the map had said the secret passage was supposed to be. But the only thing in site in the empty hall was a statue of a one eyed witch. He looked around desperately, but there was nothing else in sight. Why hadn't he checked this before hand? Just as he was starting to panic, a pair of voices made him spin around, pure white wand spitting lethal looking emerald sparks. "Woah!" Said one redhead. "Easy there!" said another identical redhead. Harry cautiously examined them. This was not going to plan, nobody was supposed to see him, especially not two Gryffindors. "What do you want?" He asked carefully. They both looked at each other, and got a mischievous look on their faces. "Should we tell him, George, my dashing brother?" the one on the left asked. George, the on the right, nodded excitedly. "Fred, you handsome rogue, I think we should. It would just be no fun if we didn't." They shared another look, and somehow communicating silently, acted simultaneously. They walked over to the one eyed witch statue, and whispered "_Dissendium."_ To Harry's utter amazement, a slide was revealed in the hump of the witches back.

Wand still pointing at the two eerily similar redheads, Harry approached the statue. They moved aside, and Harry sat on the slide. Before he went down though, he turned back to the twins. "I suppose you'll let everyone know how I escaped, but could you wait a few hours? I'll be very grateful." The two twins broke out in identical laughs before answering at the same time. "Oh Potter! That's a good one! You have nothing to worry about! We're not the type to kiss and tell." Harry looked at them quizzically. He wanted to say he thought they sounded crazy, but he didn't want to push his luck. So Harry turned back to slide down, but they left him with one parting message. "Oh and Potter, we think it's a great prank what you pulled, pitting the houses against each other to make your escape. Absolutely brilliant." Then the humorous tone that had been present until now left their voices, and was replaced with a deadly serious tone. "But be warned, if you mess with our brother again, we might not be so forgiving." And with that ominous threat, they gave him a kick, plunging Harry down the slide.

Fifteen seconds later, Harry tumbled into a dark dusty tunnel. The slide retracted into the ceiling, and Harry was left alone in the darkness. There was no turning back now. Getting to his feet, Harry whispered "_Lumos," _lighting up the tunnel, and started walking. The tunnel was much longer than he had anticipated, but Harry figured he still had more than enough time before anyone noticed he was missing. Gradually, the ground started steeping upwards. He reached the end of the tunnel and found a ladder beneath a trapdoor. Peeking underneath it, Harry found himself in a pantry of sorts. Seeing and hearing nobody, Harry stepped out of the tunnel, and quickly exited the building that appeared to be candy store of sorts.

He tossed his black and yellow Hogwarts robes in a rubbish bin, and put on a plain black robe he had brought from home. Pulling up the hood, he stepped into an inn. It was a filthy place, and there didn't seem to be any customers. Harry nervously walked up to the barkeep and slid him a galleon. "For the floo." Harry said in a whisper. The barkeep just grunted and said in a vaguely famililar voice "Fireplace upstairs in the back." Harry nodded and headed upstairs. There was a portrait of a beautiful girl in a blue dress above the fireplace. Harry was stuck by the sadness on her face. Shaking off his momentary stupor, he took a fistful of green powder and threw it in the flames. Harry stepped into them ignoring the tickling feeling and said in a clear voice, "The Sandbank." Instantly he was sent spinning past countless fireplaces. This went on for what must've been half an hour, and just when Harry was turning a bit green, he finally saw the exit he wanted, and stepped out. This time a pair of soft arms caught him before he could hit the ground.

"Harry! What are you doing here? You should be at Hogwarts!" Harry looked up and saw Mrs. Goldstein looking at him alarm. But before he could answer, the whole house started to shake, and Doctor Goldstein ran into the room. "Viola! Someone is laying siege to the wards! We're under attack!" The doctor noticed Harry and his fearful face turned shocked. "Harry! What are you doing here? You should be at school!" Mrs. Goldstein put her hands on her hips, and gave Harry a "You're in trouble" look, which was hard to do as the building started to shake more violently. "I was wondering the exact same thing. Harry why don't you explain. And be quick with it, we're in a bit of an emergency right now." Harry shook his head, how had the blasted old man gotten here so quickly? Had his distraction failed? But there was no time to figure out what went wrong now, so he continued "It's Dumbledore! He must be the one attacking the wards!" Harry started sobbing. "This wasn't supposed to happen! I worked so hard, and it was all for nothing!" Tears openly fell down his face.

Mrs. Goldstein kneeled down so she could wipe away the tears. "Harry… what's the matter? What's this you're saying about Dumbledore?" Harry looked up, and sniffed. "I never wanted to go to Hogwarts! Dumbledore blackmailed me and threatened the family! I've spent my entire time there trying to figure how to escape with enough time to warn you, but I've failed." Mrs. Goldstein patted Harry on the back and gave him a hug. Harry clung to her like a lifeline. "Harry… I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't…" An explosion cut her off. The outside facing wall was blown to shreds, and in walked Dumbledore, followed closely by dozens of red robed aurors.

Mrs. Goldstein pushed Harry and Doctor Goldstein behind her, and pulled out her wand. Dumbledore looked triumphant. "Viola Goldstein. You are hereby ordered to surrender possession of Harry Potter. If you cooperate, I will grant leniency. If you refuse, you will be charged to the full extent of the law for kidnapping and resisting arrest." Doctor Goldstein was outraged. "Kidnapping? Harry's our son! We adopted him legally!" He looked to the aurors. "Ever heard of knocking! You won't get away with this! I'll press charges against the ministry for breaking and entering, destruction of private property, and trespassing!" This gave the aurors pause, but Dumbledore was quick to back them up. "Everything that the aurors and I have done to recover Mr. Potter was perfectly legal, since the Wizengamot considers this to be a hostage situation."

Harry had had enough by now. "I'm not a hostage! I've lived here for years of my own free will!" Harry turned to the Auror who seemed to be in charge, a peg legged scar faced man with a constantly moving magical eye. "Please sir, I know the aurors are good people, everyone appreciated what they did with Snape." Harry saw out of the corner of his Dumbledore look ready to interrupt, but the Auror gave what must have been a smile, though it was difficult to tell, so Harry continued to plead his case. "The Goldsteins are good people! they've been more a family to me than my own blood relatives! Please! You've got to listen to me!" The scar faced man listened to Harry's genuine sounding pleading, and now seemed more hesitant than ever. "Dumbledore… the lad has some convincing points. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding.." But Dumbledore wasn't having it. "As Chief Warlock, I'm ordering you not to stand down Chief Auror Moody, this is a Hostage situation, and the boy is delirious. I will remind you that the Goldsteins adoption papers were ruled invalid in an emergency session of the Wizengamot just a few minutes ago. That's the end of it. Now arrest that witch." The peg-legged man's shoulders slumped. "Very well… Viola Goldstein, please come quietly."

Mrs. Goldstein started laughing though. "Oh this is rich!" she said. "Is there no justice in the world anymore?" Moody pulled out his wand, and so did all the aurors. "I won't ask again miss, don't make this more difficult than it has to be!" they moved closer to surround them, but that was when Viola made her move. "_Bombarda!" _She threw a spell down that collapsed the floor, instantly creating a huge chasm separating them from the aurors and Dumbledore. She waved her wand in an intricate pattern, and some of the debris flew over and transformed into a big wall, which they ducked behind and used as cover from the answering spell fire. "Alex! Go find Lucas and Grace and get them to safety!" Alex nodded, shared a passionate kiss with Viola and ran off up the stairs. Crash! Half of the makeshift wall exploded, and they barely avoided the falling debris. Mrs. Goldstein returned fire until she was forced to take cover again. She took a galleon out of her pocket put her wand to it. "_Portus!" _the golden coin glowed blue for a second. She took Harry's crying face in her hands and wiped the fresh tears away.

"Harry, my sweet boy. Don't cry. Be brave like I know you are. Can you do that? For me?" Harry wanted to say no, that he wasn't brave enough, but he nodded when she asked him to do it for her. "Good boy. Take this portkey." She pressed the coin into his hands. "Say _meadow_ and it'll activate. Go get your things and then leave. It won't be safe here, so don't come back. I'll buy you as much time as I can, but you need to get out of here. When you arrive, find Madam Maxime. She's an old friend, and she can offer you sanctuary that not even Dumbledore can penetrate. Promise me you'll do that." Harry seized her in a tight hug, but when the rest of the wall crashed down, Harry knew he was running out of time. "I promise... " he whispered. Mrs. Goldstein hugged him back. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Harry wiped his teary face on his arm and gave her one more hug. "Go Harry!" she ordered, and Harry did as he was told. But instead of going to his room, he ran outside into the forest. He found the spot where he had buried the package he swiped from Hagrid. He still didn't know what was in it, but it was the only thing he had going for him so far. Everything else was replaceable. Just as he finished digging it up and pocketed the package he heard an explosion. He ran to the edge of the forest, only to see the formerly beautiful wooden house on fire, a smoking ruin. About half the aurors had been taken out, but they had won. Harry saw Mrs. Goldstein laughing in the faces of the approaching aurors before being disarmed and stunned. With tears in his eyes, he took the galleon out of his pocket and whispered "Meadow." And Harry Potter vanished without a trace.

A/N: Why do I keep doing this? I keep writing longer and longer chapters for no reason. So much happened in this chapter, and I honestly thought about splitting it into two different chapters. But I just wanted to get everything about Hogwarts out of the way. I hope it isn't too much. The next chapter might not be for a while, so I hope this tides you over for a bit. I have two important tests next week, and I can't afford to do poorly. Wish me luck! Oh, and if you appreciate my hard work, please leave a review, and follow to see what happens next.


	9. Chapter 9: The Sky Is Falling

Chapter 9: The Sky Is Falling

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I've been focused on school. Since I get so carried away with writing fanfic, I had decided to wait until the semester was over to continue the story. We'll I'm happy to report that I'm now on winter break. Well, technically, I'm taking one online class, which I should be focused on now, but who needs school anyway? Without further ado, here's chapter 9! Enjoy!

A few hundred miles away, far away from the noise of battle, a sharp crack disturbed the quiet evening air. A young boy had appeared in the middle of a grassy mountain valley. He had long flaming ruby red hair, pearly white skin that was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and a very distinctive pair of emerald green eyes. A unique pair of eyes that could only belong to one Harry Potter.

Harry rolled over and stared at the setting sun. He felt numb, the full weight of what had just happened had yet to sink in, but Harry was glad for that, there was no time for contemplation right now. He had to keep moving. During his research for his ill-fated escape attempt from Hogwarts, Harry had spent many hours in the library researching magical transportation, and he knew it was possible to track portkeys. It was only a matter of time until someone noticed he was missing. And when they did, they would come for him. Harry would have to evade them for as long as possible, he owed Mrs. Goldstein that much. Yes, Harry nodded to himself, he needed to get very far away from here. But as Harry got to his feet, he quickly realized he had no idea where here was.

He was standing in the middle of a valley, with nothing but vast open grass plains for miles around in almost every direction. The most remarkable feature of the landscape was to his left. There, far off in the distance, and partially obscured by fog, was an enormous mountain whose peak was covered in forest. "Now what?" Harry grumbled in irritation. Where had Mrs. Goldstein sent him? Harry racked his mind for clues, but could come up with nothing. She had only said to find someone called Madame Maxime, and Harry had no idea who that was. Harry knew that Madame was a French title, but at the same time, Maxime sounded like an eastern European surname. Harry scratched his chin, none of this was making sense. Meadow was the portkey password, but Harry had never heard of a place called by that name, and he certainly did not appear to be in a meadow of any sort.

After another few minutes turning it over in his head, Harry threw his hands up in frustration. "Great! So I could be anywhere from France to Siberia, I have no idea where to go, and I have only a few hours head start until someone tries to kidnap me again! Could things get any worse?" BOOM! Thunder shook the sky, and a few seconds later, it started to pour rain in buckets, quickly drenching Harry to the bone. Cursing his luck, Harry set off for the nearest cover.

The mountain was even farther than it had appeared to be, and by the time Harry finally reached the base, the sun had gone down, and with it went the remaining warmth of the day. The temperature plunged to freezing conditions, and the rain turned to icy sheets, more intense and bone chilling than any rain Harry had ever experienced before. He tried pulling his thin black robe tighter, but it made no difference, and within a few minutes his teeth started to chatter. "Merlin, I've got to find some cover soon or I'll freeze out here…" Harry said to himself. He had hoped there would be somewhere he could take shelter in at the base of the mountain, but there was none to speak of. It was completely barren, with only zigzagging rock-face jutting out all the way until the peak. Only the mountain top was different, it was covered in a dark forest. It looked so close, yet so impossibly far away.

Harry had never climbed a mountain before, and he didn't think it would be a good idea to make his first attempt on a dark and stormy night. But any further hesitation was cut off when Harry noticed that off in the distance, where he had first arrived by the portkey, several beams of light were searching in the darkness. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. Harry took it as an omen. The chase was on.

He was now more thankful than ever for all the long hours he had spent drilling on the quidditch pitch, in the dark, and in damp, wet conditions. That, combined with his already supernatural grace and surefooted balance ensured Harry didn't even break a sweat in his ascent. In what seemed like no time at all, Harry had made it to the peak of the mountain.

At the peak, there was a gentle wind blowing, but strangely, unlike the biting cold gusts of wind at the base of the mountain, this wind didn't bother Harry. The opposite in fact, it seemed to energize him, and sharpen his focus.

Harry quickly took stock of the situation, and not for the first time that night, he had no idea what to do. He had nothing but his wand, a used portkey, and the clothes on his back. From that height, Harry could see for quite some distance. But to his dismay, he could also see those searching lights were closing in on his position. But how had they guessed? Looking out off the other side of the mountain, far below him, Harry could just barely make out what might be the lights of a small village. Those lights represented freedom, but he would never make it there before he was caught. Harry glanced back and saw the searchers had started up the mountain. They had to be tracking him, but how? It didn't matter, it was too late now, and Harry didn't have the first clue about magical tracking anyway. His prospects were starting to look pretty bleak. "How am I going to get myself out of this one?" He asked himself. For half an hour he paced back and forth, trying to come up with something, some idea that could get him out of this, but he couldn't come up with anything. The only thing he had going for him was that he held the element of surprise. The sound of rocks crashing below him told him he was running out of time, but it also gave him an idea. Harry started giggling to himself as he quickly got to work, and his giggles quickly turned into hysterical laughter.

A mile down the mountain, the sound of sinister chuckling carried on the wind. A scar-faced man with a magical eyebrow, Alastor Moody, was clutching the rock-face. "Merlin, this is insanity. Nearly fell to my death right there." He paused and turned to the gray-bearded man with half-moon glasses beside him. "Albus, I have a bad feeling about this." He began slowly. "There's no way he didn't see us with all the lights we were waving around." He glared at the man to his left, a balding ginger man. He pulled himself over another ledge, and stopped to catch his breath. "Can't we just let the lad be?" The old man shook his head and replied in a patronizing tone "We've been over this before Alastor." The scar faced man bristled. "I know what you've said! How we must capture the poor Potter boy for the greater good, about how our whole world depends on it, but even for you and your crazy schemes, this is going too far! Chasing a kid up a mountain, right after we burned his house down! It's enough to traumatize anyone! Enough even.. to turn them dark.." That was the wrong thing to say, as Dumbledore snapped at him. "ENOUGH Alastor! I will hear no more of this! Now, we are going to find Mr. Potter and bring him home. This is not up for negotiation." Just then Moody's wooden leg slipped on a patch on wet rocks, but before he could fall off the mountain, he found himself levitating upside down in the air, and came to see Dumbledore with his wand out. "Do I make myself clear Alastor?" Moody had to stop himself from giving a mutinous glare, and managed to grunt an affirmative reply. "Aye Albus, you've made yourself very clear."

Meanwhile back at the mountain top, Harry was running around the peak, wand pointed at the ground, blasting away earth and rock. He was lucky the storm was still going, otherwise he might've been afraid his pursuers would hear him with all the noise he was making. Of course, with only a year of magical training under his belt, Harry was at a distinct disadvantage experience wise. But what he lacked in experience he made up for with creativity. Harry needed every edge he could get to gain the upper hand, and he was still mad at himself for not realizing it earlier, but his position gave him a natural advantage in any standoff. Harry had the high ground.

His plan was simple, he would ambush his pursuers before they even had a chance to get on level ground with him. But Harry was under no delusion that he would be able to take all of them out in one strike, so his backup plan involved turning the ground on the mountain top into a maze of confusing trenches. He remembered learning in history class about Hitler's failed invasion into Russia. Even though the Nazis had superior troops and weaponry, they were not equipped for the freezing Russian winter. The lesson Harry had taken from that was to always be aware of your surroundings. So Harry now planned to do exactly that. Even if none of them fell to his initial assault, it would be that much more difficult to capture him if they had to chase him through the trenches he had dug. Now, as he stared down the mountain from the forward most position, all he had to do was wait.

A little while later, they finally came into sight over a small ridge. The rain had stopped now, and the deafening thunder had gone quiet, leaving only an eerie silence. One man, dressed in all black, and with a head full of greasy hair, was the first to come into sight. Harry slowly raised his wand over the earthen bulwark. He waited until he could see all of them, and saw there were four people in the party. Harry grimaced, any remaining hope of winning in fell swoop was dashed. Still, four wasn't too bad. They were now at the steepest part of the ridge, too focused on climbing to look up. Harry steeled himself, took a deep breath and jumped out. "_Diffindo_! "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Harry attacked in earnest, catching them by surprise. The greasy man was caught by his first spell, and was sent crashing into a tree growing off the side of the mountain, stopping him from falling off. A grisly looking red gash opened down the side of his face seeping alarming amounts of blood. "Severus!" A second man, this one with balding ginger hair, called out, only to be be taken down under Harry's barrage. His arms and legs snapped together, and he went stiff as a board. He started to slip down the cliff-side, only to have his momentum arrested, and be unparalyzed. Harry gaped, he hadn't expected that. But he had no more time to think as a fiery orange spell barely missed him and exploded a tree behind him, sending chunks of wooden shrapnel everywhere. Harry yelped as he felt a sharp pain from his left tricep. He put his hand on the spot, and it came back crimson with blood. More fiery orange spells started whizzing by, a few so close, they singed the hair on the side of his head. His surprise lost, Harry jumped back into the trenches and ran to the nearest cover.

Meanwhile, back at the ridge, the now party of three finally managed to make it to the peak, only to stop short. "Why did the boy attack us like that? I hope Severus will be okay, I think he's… Merlin!" the balding man gasped at the sight of trenches that stretched out for a hundred yards in every direction. They were silent for a minute before Moody broke down laughing, his hands on his knees. The ginger didn't see what was so funny. "Why are you laughing Alastor? I don't know how this is even possible?" Alastor finally calmed down. "Weasley, shut up." he said, and jumped into the trenches, but stopped and turned to his two companions. "We'll need to split up, we'll never find him if we don't. Albus, you take left, Arthur you take a right, and I'll take center. Send up sparks if you catch him." Dumbledore nodded his agreement, and Moody took off down the center without another word. Weasley turned to Dumbledore "There is something wrong with that man! I mean really, laughing hardly seems appropriate at a time like this." But Dumbledore waved him off. "I can hardly blame him Arthur. One can't help but admire Mr. Potter's ingenuity." Arthur started to argue. "Yes, but.." he stopped short when he realized there was nobody there. Dumbledore must have left when he was distracted. "Ah well, best get a move on," he said. He didn't take two steps into the right trench before he found himself petrified and bound in ropes. Harry stepped out of the shadows, and stood over the man, grinning wickedly in triumph, giving the man quite the scare. "Two down, two to go."

Alastor Moody had to give it to the Potter boy, this was a clever move. It was something he would have done himself had he been in the lad's position. It was also a testament to the boy's power, that he could move this much earth on such a short notice. He had walked for fifteen minutes, taking twisting turns, and quickly getting lost in the maze of earthwork. His magical eye couldn't penetrate earth, so he was left with only one useful eye. Eventually he reached a dead end, and Moody growled in frustration. He tried to think about what to do, but that was when he noticed how quiet it had gotten. Before there had been the soft rustling of the leaves in the wind, and his own clanking footsteps constantly in the background. Now, it was absolutely silent. Almost like, someone had silenced him… He made to whirl around only to feel something poke sharply into his neck. "Not another step..."

This was not supposed to happen. No, this was not according to plan at all. Albus Dumbledore heaved a small sigh as he turned into another deadend and started to retrace his steps once more. He had lost count of how many times he had already done this. Wasn't Harry supposed to be a Hufflepuff? This was too cunning, too clever, too daring, for a harmless Hufflepuff. And the worst part was that all of this was over going to Hogwarts. Those blasted Goldsteins, if they hadn't stuck their noses where it didn't belong, none of this would have happened. Harry would have happily attended Hogwarts, none the wiser. The sound of a branch snapping shook him from his thoughts. It was Moody. "Alastor! What news do you have? Any sign of the boy?" he asked jovially. Moody hesitated, and that was what tipped him off that something wasn't quite right. He barely had time to react as Moody threw a stunning spell at him. Dumbledore was shocked at the betrayal, but managed to duck in time. He wasn't regarded as one of the most powerful wizards of all time for nothing, and made short work of Alastor, quickly stunning and binding him. He walked over to his friend and shook his head sadly. "I wouldn't have believed you possible of doing this my friend. How could you have done such a thing?" he asked the unconscious man. He instinctively felt an attack coming from behind, and rolled out of the way of a binding spell. "Simple," said a voice behind him. He dodged another spell, and swiveled to see the boy who had caused him so much trouble, Harry Potter.

To think that just a few hours ago, he had been admiring this boy perform stunning feats of aerial acrobatics on a broom during an admittedly lethal qudditch game, now was attacking him, it was surreal. The boy now had his wand pointed in his direction, panting heavily with exertion, his emerald eyes sparkling. "How so my boy?" Dumbledore asked. Potter nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "I asked him." Dumbledore's jaw dropped, and Harry tried to attack once more, but he just sidestepped. "You asked him?" he repeated. Potter smirked. "Well it did take some convincing, but he was quite amenable after a bit of persuasion." This would take some investigating, but that would have to wait. It was time to put an end to this fiasco. "Harry put down your wand. This has gone on long enough. If you come now, I'll even let you visit Mrs. Goldstein in Azkaban." Harry's face turned red. "Don't you dare speak of her! She wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for you! I'll never come back!" Dumbledore sighed theatrically. "So be it." With a wave of his hand, Harry fell to the ground bound in thick ropes. Harry struggled frantically, but it was no use. He did manage to push himself up against the wall so he could see what was going on. "Let me go you bastard!" he shouted. Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that Mr. Potter."

This couldn't be happening. He had promised Viola, he couldn't go back. "No, no, no." Harry frantically shook his head. There had to be a way out of this. When he saw Dumbledore bend down and turn a rock into a portkey, he started to panic. "NO!" he shouted. Tears started to well up in his eyes, and the ground started to shake. Dumbledore stumbled a bit, and Harry felt a brief flicker of hope in his heart. How was he doing this? He focused hard, harder than he ever focused in his life, and could feel something inside him, something that was yearning to be released. He tried to grasp it, but it was like trying to hold water, it kept slipping out of reach. Sweat started pouring down his face as Dumbledore got closer, and he redoubled his effort. There! Just as Dumbledore reached him, Harry felt an enormous energy surge through him. Too much energy he quickly realized as the whole mountain started shaking with an uncontrollable intensity. Dumbledore tripped, luckily away from Harry, and smashed his head on a rock before he fell onto his own portkey, disappearing.

Almost effortlessly, Harry broke his bonds, and stood up, somehow not bothered at all by the earthquake. He tried to put the power back, to calm down, but it was out of control. Fear started to grip him, and his mind raced for a solution. Maybe if he pushed himself harder, he would be able to exhaust the power, like an engine out of fuel. Harry took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He reached deep inside himself, and felt the power, but he went past it, and kept going deeper, and deeper, trying to find the source of it all. Just as it was starting to become painful, he found it - a great ball of fire - and released it. Harry's eyes snapped open. Trees had started falling over from the vibrations in the ground, and when Harry looked down and his hands, he saw they were on fire. "Uh oh…" was all he had time to say before a deafening blast blew him into the air.

A few minutes prior, in the small village of Mont-Dore, a deep rumbling in the ground had woken the townspeople. Earthquakes were unusual in this part of the world, so there was a great amount of confusion and fear. The local mayor, a stout man with a thin wiry mustache, stood on a chair with a megaphone in hand, trying to restore calm. "I assure you all, the local authorities are hard at work trying to determine the cause of the earthquake. Please return to your homes," he said in a rapid-fire french the way only a politician could do. Suddenly, an explosion shook the air. Massif Central - the volcano that had long stood dormant over the village - had just erupted in a towering fireball hundreds of meters in the air. All hell broke loose.

People panicked, and a stampede to evacuate the town broke out. One girl with silver blonde hair stood there unmoving in the middle of the crowd, staring up at the enormous mountain on fire with wide eyes. People were running past her, but she stood still, alone, like a rock in a rushing stream. Suddenly she heard a screaming, but it wasn't coming from around her, no it was coming from somewhere else, and it was getting closer. She looked up just in time to see red haired boy, fall out of the sky and crash onto her, sending them tumbling into the ground.

Harry was dizzy from the blast, and when he looked up, he found him staring into the glare of a girl with sky blue eyes. For some reason, Harry felt his breath catch a bit. Strangely, once she got a good look at him, her expression changed to an excited look. They both got to their feet, ignoring the chaos around them. She said something to him, and her voice reminded him of the wind chimes back at Private Drive. But it was in another language, and he didn't understand it all. "Sorry, do you speak English?" he asked. The girl shook her head, and a very familiar shimmer sparkled in her silver blonde hair. Oh well, manners were manners. He pointed to himself. "I'm Harry Potter." Her pretty blue eyes gleamed in understanding, and she curtsied before pointing to herself, and replying in that same musical voice. "Je m'applle Fleur Delacour."

A/N: Hi all! I wanted to keep going, but I decided to just post now worry later. Please review!


	10. Chapter 10: German

Chapter 10: German

Harry gaped at the girl, there was just something about her that gave off a familiar feeling. It was hard to describe, but he felt this pull towards her, something he never remembered encountering before, yet he could not shake the feeling of deja vu. It washed over him in waves, simultaneously making him feel compelled to impress her, and an almost irresistible urge to boast arrogantly. Harry's mouth opened to do just that, but he shut it quickly. Pinching himself, he managed to shrug off his strange impulsive thoughts. And just like that, the tables turned, and now, the girl was staring at _him_ with _her_ jaw had dropped now. Harry took the opportunity to examine her critically. One thought instantly popped into his mind. Her appearance could be summed up with one word; perfect.

Flawless alabaster skin adored her face, with high cheekbones and sharp curves in all the right places. It couldn't have been sculpted out of marble better, not by the best artist in the world. Silver hair flowed down her back in a shimmering cascade. She had deep sky blue eyes that shined like sparkling sapphires, and her lips were a rosy red. Lips, he noticed that were moving rapidly, saying something with an urgency.

But before he could focus on her words, an explosion blasted him off his feet, and he once more felt himself lifted in the air, this time landing much harder, and going face first into the dirt. After a few seconds groaning in pain, Harry rolled himself over and got back to his feet. He felt something wet trickle down the side of his face slickly, but he ignored it. His head was pounding, and his ears were ringing from the explosion. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself together as best he could and took a look around. A car sized piece of molten rock had landed just a few feet from where he had been standing, leaving a four foot deep crater in its place. But that wasn't even the most astonishing thing he saw. As Harry looked up, his jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide as saucers.

Forks of lightning filled the formerly dark night sky, lighting up dark gray smoke clouds for as far as the eye could see. Bright orange plumes of lava burst forth from the mountain with powerful, awe inspiring ferocity, throwing up chunks of rock the size of houses, like they were mere specks of dirt. It was just about the most incredible, yet terrifying thing Harry had ever seen. As more chucks of flaming rock rained down around him, he realized that if he didn't get out of there soon, he wouldn't live to tell the tale. He turned to do just that, when he an almost inaudible groan of pain stopped him in his tracks.

Lying under a big slab of rock was the girl he had landed on earlier. What was her name? He was still dizzy from the blast, but he eventually remembered. It was Fleur. Not a bad name at all, he thought. But now she was unconscious, bleeding, and slowly being crushed. Harry didn't even hesitate. He ran over to her, dodging a few errant pieces of flaming rock falling from the sky, and whipped out his white willow wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _he shouted, and the rock was blasted into the sky. Harry looked down at his wand confusedly, funny, he hadn't thought he had put that much power into the charm. A nearby explosion refocused him back on his task, so he put it out of his mind. Harry kneeled down, and hefted the girl onto his shoulders, fireman style. She was surprisingly light, almost alarmingly so, and Harry barely felt any strain on his calf muscles as he stood up with the girl splayed over his shoulders. Another explosion too close for comfort got him moving, and he ran as fast as he could away from the burning village.

Somehow, miraculously, Harry managed to make it out of town without being crushed, but he didn't stop there. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline coursing through his veins, or maybe it was because he was just sick of being blown off his feet all day, but he kept running. He ran and ran until his muscles were screaming in protest, but he refused to stop, and powered through his pain with sheer willpower. Harry kept running until his legs locked up in pain, and his feet refused to take another step. The still exploding mountain was just a speck in the distance now. He set Fleur down, and promptly collapsed in exhaustion. He was panting for breath, unable to move. He retched and heaved, but he had not had anything substantial to eat in a while, so it was doubly painful. His whole body was sore, and he felt utterly drained of energy. As soon as he managed to get his breath back, he curled up in a ball and passed out.

"Aaaaahh!" Harry woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He felt his heart pounding hard in his chest, and his throat felt parched and drier than a desert. He had never been this thirsty before, and it left him feeling weak with sapped of all his strength. A different moan of pain that was not his own startled him. Harry looked over and noticed the girl he had saved. He had almost completely forgotten about her. Her pretty face was scrunched up in pain, so he crawled over to her. Gently taking her wrist, he felt for her pulse. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a normal rhythm. Her chest was slowly rising and falling, but every time she did, she winced. Harry guessed she probably had a few broken ribs from being crushed under that rock. He didn't know how to mend bones magically, and he didn't have any medical supplies to set them non-magically either.

Even if he did, Harry knew he was too weak from dehydration to do something like that right now. He didn't need his medical diploma to know that neither one of them would last much longer if he didn't manage to get some water soon. He cursed himself for not learning some sort of water summoning spell. Logically, Harry knew it was unreasonable to expect himself to have learned such advanced magic. Especially when he had had so little time to learn what all that he did from the Hogwarts library. He had been so focused on escaping, that when it came to what came after he escaped, he hadn't been concerned. He realized how short sighted that was now, but it was too late. Any rational excuse he could come up with sounded pathetic when his life was hanging in the balance.

He looked around desperately, but there was no river, pond or even a shallow puddle anywhere nearby. He collapsed back into the grass, trying to think of some way to save himself when he felt his hand touch something wet. Harry quickly sat up and looked at where his hand had touched the grass. The sun was just peeking out over the horizon, and the grass underneath him was moist with morning dew. "Of course!" he exclaimed, his voice coming out hoarse and scratchy. Harry ripped off a piece of fabric from his pants and wiped it through the grass, giggling deliriously when it came back soaked with water. Harry wringed the piece of cloth out into his mouth, sighing in relief as the water trickled down his parched throat. After he repeated this a few dozen times, he gradually felt his strength return. Eventually, he felt strong enough to stand, and he walked over to the girl and propped her up against the tree. He hadn't realized it yesterday, but when he had collapsed in exhaustion, they had taken cover underneath what had to be the largest willow tree he had ever seen. Its' wilting branches and drooping leaves stretching out for over a hundred meters. Seeing she was not too uncomfortable, Harry gently pried open her mouth and repeated the process, making sure she got some water in her system. Once she seemed satisfied, Harry set about seeing if he could help her broken ribs.

Harry had seen Mr. Goldstein treat dozens of wounds like this back before Harry had landed his cushy research job at the Francis Crick Institute. He smiled fondly remembering all the times Mr. Goldstein had brought him into the Hospital on take your child to work day. So much had happened since then, and it seemed like a lifetime ago now, even though not that much time had really passed. Harry wiped his eyes, trying hard not to think about the fate of his adoptive family. He would get his revenge one day, but that day was not today. He had more immediate problems at hand. Taking off his button down shirt, he pulled off his undershirt and wrapped it tightly around her chest, securing the broken ribs in place. He wouldn't be winning any fashion contests, but it would do the job. Once more feeling exhausted, he threw his regular shirt back on and bundled himself up as best he could before he once more fell asleep exhausted.

When he next woke up, the sun had gone down, and a starry sky twinkled down at him. He felt sore and terribly hungry, but still, quite a bit better than the day before. "_Est-ce_ _que_ _tu_ _vas_ _bien_?" He heard a soft and melodious voice say. Harry sat up and turned around and found himself staring into those same sapphire eyes that had hypnotized him yesterday. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment, and he quickly looked away. She broke into giggles, which to Harry's mortification, he found soothingly sweet, like warm honey to the ears. Harry kept his eyes glued to the ground, but a few seconds later he felt a few slender fingers lift his chin up. She was only a few inches away from him now, and this close up, Harry could see in detail just how pretty she was. Her shining eyes, her shimmering hair, none of it was natural, it wasn't human… and yet, Harry did not feel bothered by that at all. And again he felt a nagging feeling of deja vu, but for the life of him he did not know why. He opened his mouth to ask her about it, but before he could, he was silenced when she leaned in pressed her lips to his.

Her lips were soft, so very soft, and they tasted like the sweetest strawberries. Any questions he had been about to ask vanished from his mind, and Harry felt all the tension that had built up in his body over the past few days simply melt away, leaving him absolutely breathless. It might have been a second, a minute, or a lifetime later, but all too soon, she pulled away, and Harry was left gasping for breath. He must have had a shocked look on his face, because she put her hand to her mouth, trying but failing to stop herself from giggling. Harry's mouth opened and closed several times, but eventually he just settled for blushing deeply, making his face match his fiery ruby red hair. He stared wide eyed at her, completely bewildered, but secretly a bit pleased. Finally, he tried to speak again, but she effortlessly silenced him when one of her slender fingers covered his lips, cutting off his storm of questions. "_Merci_" she said as way of explanation before pointing to where his makeshift splint was still snugly secured.

Harry tried to wave it off. "Oh, that, it was no problem. Only doing my duty." She looked confused, and Harry remembered that she didn't speak English. Harry knew some very rudimentary french, just because he had been required to take a foreign language course at university. He had never thought he would have to use it again, so he was pretty rusty. Very hesitantly, he spoke in a very thickly accented and halting french. "_You're welcome. Where… where are we?" _She smiled brightly at him, and for some reason Harry felt butterflies flutter in his stomach. Before he could blink though, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. He tried to protest about her injury, but she didn't seem bothered by it at all. And before he knew what was happening, she had started walking, pulling him in a eastern direction. She looked back at him smiling brightly, laughing that musical laugh, and Harry couldn't help but laugh back, her happiness was infectious.

They continued that way for a long time, and Harry lost track of the time passing. It was such a strange experience, they barely said anything to each other, but Harry felt a growing and deep connection with his companion. Somehow, without barely exchanging but a few words, they understood each other, and Harry had never had so much fun just walking and _being_ with someone. Before he knew it, they were standing on the outskirts of a small city. Harry blinked and looked around owlishly. He turned to Fleur to ask, but once more, words were not necessary. "_Clermont-Ferrand"_ she said, nodding at a street sign that said just that. He smiled happily, having never been to any french city before.

They continued on for awhile, never letting go of each other's hands, until they reached a gas station. Luckily, the place was open 24/7. They walked inside and the teenager sitting behind the cash register's jaw dropped. Harry didn't blame him, they must have made quite a strange sight. Two kids wearing torn and ripped clothing, covered in blood, dirt and sweat. Fleur said something and the teenager, who had the name "Samuel" written on a name tag pinned to his chest, nodded dumbly before he handed her a telephone. Fleur thanked him, and the boy smiled back goofily. He made to say something, but fell out of his chair, smacking his head on the counter. Harry and Fleur glanced at each other before they burst out laughing together. When they eventually calmed down, they smiled shyly at each other.

Fleur dialed in a phone number, and Harry pretended not to eavesdrop. A few rings later someone picked up the phone. At first only silence answered her greeting, and then there was excited screaming, followed by extremely quick french that Harry had no chance of following. She hung up the phone and put it on the counter, as Samuel was still groaning and rubbing his head on the floor. They walked out of the store and went down the street to sit on a bench together, watching the sun slowly come over the horizon.

Tire screeching in the distance made them jump. They shared a brief look, before they both stood up. The noise got louder and closer, and Harry reached in his pocket to feel the comforting magic of his wand. It felt strangely hot to the touch. Finally, around a corner, at least a dozen black SUVs came speeding up to them, screeching to a halt just short of where they were standing, kicking up dust and sending them into coughing fits. By the time Harry could breathe properly again, the number of cars had doubled, and they were completely surrounded. Strangely, when Harry glanced over at Fleur, she seemed supremely unworried. So, following her lead, Harry tried to act casual despite the nervous butterflies in his stomach.

Out of one of the cars stepped a man who could only be described as someone didn't take nonsense from anyone. Sharp black sunglasses covered his eyes, and he had a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck. He was puffing on a lit cigar, and he seemed to be waiting for something. "_Papa_!" Fleur screamed in delight, running up to the man and wrapping him in a big hug. The man chuckled and hugged her back, before he gave some sort of hand signal. Not a moment later, dozens of blue robed wizards jumped out of the remaining SUVs. Before Harry could say Quidditch he was slammed up against the hood of one of the cars, having his legs spread and forced to bend over. He felt his hands get shackled, and was just relieved of his wand when a scream of protest distracted him. Fleur had a very angry look on her face and was having a heated conversation in rapid french with the cigar-smoking man, pointing and gesturing at Harry. She must have said something that surprised him, because he choked and looked sharply in Harry's direction. Another hand gesture and Harry was suddenly released from his shackles and had his wand returned. Harry rubbed his wrists, and glared at the man in blue who had shoved him so roughly. The man only shrugged his shoulders, not perturbed by Harry's angry look at all.

"Mr. Potter" said the man who was apparently Fleur's father. He had barely any accent at all, and spoke with a crisp, barely detectable RP lilt. He came closer, and Harry got a face full of smoke, sending him doubled over into another coughing fit. When Harry looked up again, the man had an apologetic look on his face. "I apologize for that Mr. Potter. You must understand, my daughter, who tells me you rescued her, has been missing for three days. We had been thinking the worst had happened when she called us here. Your pat down was a necessary precaution." Harry's glare softened a bit. He didn't like it, but he did understand putting the safety of your family above anything else. "I understand sir." He grunted. He didn't know exactly what this man was, but he gathered the man was some sort of commander or police office by the way he ordered the blue robed wizards around. The man smiled. "Please, Mr. Potter, you can call me Mr. Delacour. Or if you really insist on formality, Director will do."

Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. A director? Harry had heard Cedric talk about how his father was the director of the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures. And that was a big deal apparently. Cedric had explained that to be the director of a department was a prestigious job, and the competition for those positions was fierce. If France was anything like Britain, this man was a powerful person in their ministry of magic. Slowly, an idea began to take shape in Harry's head. "Director Delacour sir," Harry began. "I need to find someone called Madame Maxime. Do you know who she is?" he asked. The man seemed surprised by the question, and didn't answer at first, instead taking a few puffs from his cigar. The man took off his sunglasses, and leveled Harry with an intense searching look. It was difficult not to squirm. Slowly, he spoke. "Indeed I do Mr. Potter. But I can't help but be curious why a famous Englishman like yourself would want to speak with the headmistress of France's foremost magical academy." Harry's eyes went wide. Magical academy? Why would Mrs. Goldstein send him there? "I can see from the look on your face that this is new information to you. Alright, I will take you there. I could hardly refuse after what you did for my daughter anyway." Harry started to thank the man, but he just held up a hand. "It is no problem, if we leave now, we can get there in five minutes." And without further ado Harry was shuttled into one of the SUVs, quickly joined by Fleur and her father.

It was much bigger on the inside than on the outside. Two large sofas stretched out way past what should have been the possible dimensions of the car. Mr. Delacour said something in french, and the driver, who had not exited earlier, nodded and started pressing all sorts of weird buttons on the dashboard that did not belong in a normal car. Suddenly, Harry felt a spinning sensation, then a feeling of being hooked behind the navel. The next instant, they were somewhere in the countryside, the city they had just been in having completely disappeared. Harry turned a little green having been completely unprepared for portkey travel. Without missing a beat, the driver stepped on the accelerator, and they were quickly speeding down the road that hadn't been there a second ago. Harry turned to Mr. Delacour with an astonished look on his face. "Did he just turn this car into a portkey? How is that Possible?" he asked, amazed. Mr. Delacour smiled at him, pleased with his question. "Sorry Mr. Potter. I'm afraid I can't share information of a sensitive nature like that with a non-citizen of magical France." Before Harry could reply, Mr. Delacour announced that they had arrived. To Harry's ever increasing shock, when he looked out the window, there standing in the distance was a majestic golden palace. Countless fountains and marble statues littered a perfectly manicured, sprawling, and luscious green lawns. Endless roman columns made up the enormous facade of the building, and all of it was made of gold, gleaming brightly in the sunlight. "Yes, quite impressive isn't it?" Mr. Delacour commented at his amazed expression. Harry only nodded, completely amazed.

He took out his wand, and a moment later, Harry's ragged and filthy clothes were repaired and squeaky clean. Another spell and all the dirt and caked and dried blood vanished from Harry's face. Harry tried to thank him, but the man refused his gratitude once more. "I can't have you meeting Madame Maxime in that state. I have sent a message ahead, so she should meet you at the doors." He put out his hand and Harry shook it vigorously. "I can't thank you enough Mr. Delacour," he said as way of a parting message. Harry opened the door and made to exit when he heard his name called. Harry turned around and got the shock of a lifetime when Fleur rushed over to him, gave him a big hug and pecked him on the cheek, right in front of her father. He felt her slip something into his pocket, but he was too stunned to react. She smiled at him, and waved goodbye. Harry glanced over at Mr. Delacour and seeing the angry expression on his face, waved back at Fleur before he jumped out of the SUV as quick as he could.

Not a second later, the car vanished and Harry was left coughing up dust once again. He reached into his pocket to see what she had left him, and to his horror, he found an owl mailing address. He quickly stuffed it back in his pocket, having never felt so embarrassed in his life. Shaking his head, he started up the path to the palace doors. It was obscene just how much wealth was on display. There had to be enough gold just laying around to fill his Gringotts trust vault to the ceiling a dozen times over. Finally he reached the fronts doors, also made of gold, and knocked three times. The doors were several times Harry's height. It seemed a little unnecessary until those doors opened and out walked a woman who barely fit through the frame.

She was about the size of Hagrid, and even had a similar face. She was what Harry would imagine the caretaker would look like if he was a woman. Not that he had imagined that before. She raised an eyebrow the size of Harry's fist at his staring. Stammering, Harry asked "A..Are you Madame Maxime?" Her enormous face adopted a surprised expression. "Oui, I am." She, unlike Mr. Delacour, spoke with a thick french accent. "I had z'ought zat Sebastian waz making a joke when 'e sent me a message zat zaid zat 'arry Potter was coming. Please, come in." She led him through the halls, which like the outside, was filled with a huge display of all sorts of luxury items. Beautiful paintings and enormous crystal chandeliers hung from every wall and ceiling. When they reached her office, Harry was surprised by the comparatively spartan decorations. The only expensive thing in the room was the enormous artisan desk of a beautiful quality, and the obviously custom made extremely high backed leather chair. The huge woman sat down in it and steepled her fingers, looking at Harry like he was a particularly difficult puzzle. "Sit down Monsieur Potter," she said. And Harry did, in the only normal sized chair in the room.

"Per'aps you could explain why you are 'ere?" She asked. And so Harry explained how he had been forced to attend Hogwarts by Dumbledore, his subsequent escape, Mrs. Goldstein's final instructions, his second escape, and his meeting of the Delacours. It took him over an hour to finish his story, and he left out quite a few things, like how he thought he might have accidentally caused a volcanic eruption. He didn't think she would take too kindly to that. By the time he was done, Madame Maxime's face had turned pale like she had seen a ghost, and her jaw dropped. She was silent for a few minutes, needing some time to digest all that Harry had said. "Zat iz quite a tale Monsieur Potter." she eventually said, evidently shocked by his story. Harry nodded tiredly. "Yes, all because I didn't want to go to Hogwarts." He hung his head, a bit ashamed. He was having second thoughts about all this now. Maybe it would have been better if he had just accepted his lot and attended Hogwarts. None of this mess would have happened if he had just done what he was told. His family would be safe, and he wouldn't be on the run. A deep laugh made him look up. Madame Maxime had a look of pure amusement on her face.

"Monsieur Potter, don't be too 'ard on yourself. What waz done to you waz blackmail, pure and simple. You 'ad no obligation to take zat sitting down, az you Eenglish like to say." Harry smiled up at her, finding her words reassuring. "And Viola was very clever to send you 'ere. You may not know zis, monsieur, but Beauxbatons Academy is one of ze' only places in all of Europe beyond Dumblydore's reach." Hope filled Harry's heart at those words. "So could I come to school here?" he asked. Madame Maxime's smile dropped, and turned into a stricken look on her face. "I'm sorry Monsieur, but I'm afraid not. You see, even z'ough Dumblydore cannot come 'ere without my permission, I am still obligated by our treaties with your ministry to grant zat permission unless I 'ave a good reason. I would not be able to 'old him off forever, and besides, zis will be one of ze first places 'e will look. From what you told me just now, he last saw you in France."

Harry's gut dropped, and he felt tears prickle the back of his eyes, but he wasn't going to give up yet. "S.. So there is nothing you can do? Is there nowhere I can go that Dumbledore can't force me to leave?" He asked desperately. Madame Maxime looked him over, and gave him a pensive look. "Well… zere iz one place... " she trailed off. "Please! Tell me!" Harry begged her. She still seemed hesitant, but at Harry's pleading look, she relented. "Tell me, Monsieur Potter, 'ow good iz your German?"

A/N: Hello all! Sorry for the long wait! Again… really sorry. I had an idea of where I wanted to take this story, but it took a while to really hash out. I rewrote this chapter like three times. The plot is really starting to pick up pace from here. I hope you are all enjoying this, please leave a review if you did! Thank you to everyone who does for their support.


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